


five's stages of grief

by melizza



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: ALLISON/KLAUS/VANYA IS NOT A SHIP, AWFUL little RAT BOY, Absolute Asshole Takes Advantage of Tired Rat-Boy, Abusive Relationship, Allison/Klaus/Vanya, Five Goes to School, I forced him to do the one thing that would probably kill him:, I wanted this kid to suffer so, Multi, Number Five | The Boy Has Issues, Number Five | The Boy Needs A Hug, OH MY GOD NO ITS JUST THE BEST SIBLING COMP, Underage Relationship, a CHILD cannot drink WHISKEY on these GROUNDS!!!!, can't think of any more tags, featuring: Bad Decisions, featuring: Five Hargreeves, featuring: Teenagers, five doesn't know how teenagers work so he just. makes a lot of bad decisions, five has manic episodes, five is a RAT, five is horrendous, five is just a really tired kid, five is medicated, five is mentally a teenager, five's stages of grief, go to public school, im crying i just noticed that, ive gotta find a way to put that in the story, not that way don't worry, the golden trio!!, these tags got dark QUICK OH MY GOD, they show up later don't worry, this title genuinely makes me laugh so much, time travel messed him up, upsetting, yeah this got dark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2021-01-08
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:34:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 36,717
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23822401
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/melizza/pseuds/melizza
Summary: Number Five Hargreeves is a disgusting, awful little rat. He should not be inflicted upon anybody for more than five hours at a time.Allison Hargreeves notices this, and thus begins an operation: PROJECT #5_SOCIALIZATION.(or just sending him to school in the hope it'll mellow him out.)five deals with the trials and tribulations of the teenager world; he's not very well equipped.
Relationships: Number Five | The Boy & Allison Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Ben Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Diego Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Grace Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Klaus Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Luther Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy & Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 218
Kudos: 509





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hello first post in years 
> 
> this fic held a gun to my head at 3 am and demanded I write it to completion, so here you go
> 
> comment so I know this godforsaken site is still working

Eighth grade.

Oh, the _indignity._

Five was fifty-eight years old. His intelligence surpassed his siblings’ in every way possible. He was driven, hardy, and resourceful.

Yet he couldn’t seem to figure out what to do with himself.

He was too old for his body and too young for his mind. Without a steady goal, his days were filled with whiskey and sleep. It wasn’t good for him; his siblings told him so, but he couldn’t bring himself to listen. He was trying, he really was, but every time he resigned himself to getting off the couch and putting down the alcohol to do something productive ( _anything,_ really), he found himself halfheartedly scribbling bits and pieces of math in the notebook he’d stolen from his father's drawer and falling asleep two minutes later with it in his arms.

Allison had decided he needed _mental stimulation,_ whatever that meant. After a yelling match, she had stayed out of his sight for about a week. Five enjoyed it—until she returned with a stack of papers and a shopping bag full of kids’ clothes.

Turns out what “mental stimulation” meant was middle school.

Five fought hard. He would not suffer the indignity of being cooped up in a veritable jail with the equivalent of screaming houseplants for company. But Allison was fiercer, and she knew Five was a sucker for deals.

“If you hate it after a week, I’ll pull you out.”

Too good of a compromise to be true.

“But you have to see a therapist. And you have to take your meds. Otherwise you go to school whether you like it or not.”

Oh. 

His _meds._

Five was not good with crowds. He was not good with loud noises, and he was not good with touch. All of these things had existed before his trip to the future, but now they gained a new severity. Two minutes alone in a crowd could send Five into a panic attack. A touch on the shoulder, even anticipated, spiked his adrenaline so high that he teleported three rooms away before he even knew it. 

Trying to stop the apocalypse, it had been fine; there had been other things for his siblings to think about. But now, with peace and quiet? They were _worried._

So of course, there had been doctor visits, and now Five had prescribed medication. He didn’t actually mind taking it. It calmed him down, lowered his aggression levels so he didn’t break the mailman’s arm every time he came round, and didn’t prohibit his powers. 

Lately, though, he hadn’t been taking them. More out of spite than anything else. Five knew he was an arrogant bastard, and taking medication would undermine his ego. It would be admitting his weakness. So he avoided situations that triggered panic, and didn’t take his meds. Allison noticed. There was an argument. Five still refused to take his meds.

He was stewing in his irritation when Allison interrupted him.

“Five? School. Hey.”

Five scowled at her. Allison sighed and bent down to Five’s level. “You always wanted a doctorate, Five. And if you can get through one regular year, I promise I’ll get you accelerated as many grades as I can. But I need to know you can socialize with people your age—“

“I am fifty-eight; none of those brats will be my age!“

“Five! You pull that card nonstop. You—“

“You are insufferable!” Five was angry now. He knew he’d lost the argument. Something small in the back of his head squeaked that it would be better just to take the hit and leave, but he stomped it out. Whatever Allison had to say, it was likely uninformed and immature. He was older. He knew more.

It had gone quiet, and that was a bad sign. Allison drew in a shaky breath. “ _I'm_ not insufferable, Five.” Five opened his mouth, but Allison fixed him with a look so stony that he shut it again. “You have been nothing but a constant ball of irritation a-and _malignancy_ since we fixed the world! I hate to say that. We love you, but all you’ve done since then is drink and yell. It _hurts,_ Five! The last memory I have of you is seventeen years old! And if you think being alone in a wasteland for forty-five years grew you up, I’m sorry to inform you that it hasn’t. You don’t just look thirteen, Five, you _act_ it. It’s like someone gave an adolescent boy a drinking permit.”

She took a deep breath. She felt bad. Five stood in front of her, jaw clenched, shaking. Allison softened her gaze, sighing.

“All I mean is that you still have a lot of growing up to do. You never had a childhood, but now you have a second chance. The rest of us would _kill_ for that.” She smiled. “Try it, Five.”

Five scowled.

“For me?”

He strongly resisted the urge to growl. “I will try it.”

Allison’s face brightened, and she was about to say something when Five disappeared in a flash of blue light.

———

In his room, Five resisted the urge to scream into a pillow.

 _Drink_ and _yell?_

And now he had to go to _middle_ school.

Everything Allison had said was true, and the back of his eyes burned. Five scowled. He saved the world. He brought his siblings together. He fixed Vanya. And _this_ was the thanks he got? 

A stack of papers sat on Five’s bed. 

_H. V. M. Middle School Registration,_ it said.

At least Allison was letting him fill them out himself. He suspected it wasn’t just Allison, though—Vanya, Diego, and god forbid _Klaus_ had been talking a lot. And going suspiciously quiet whenever he came in. 

God, he hated secrets.

Still fuming, he sat on the bed and thumbed through the papers, drawing a pen from his pocket. Legal name. _Five Hargreeves._ Legal age. Five huffed. _Thirteen._ Date of birth. _October 1, 2005._ School district. _Hamilton-Wentworth—_

On second thought, he should change his name. Five Hargreeves was well known; perhaps more well-known than the other siblings. His disappearance had sparked endless media coverage for years. There had even been a small court case (over Reginald’s questionable parenting skills; he won). That being said, he wanted to keep the moniker “Five”. Perhaps as a middle name? And he’d change Hargreeves to something close, but different. Like Hargread. Good.

 _But what to do for a first name?_ thought Five. What had Mother wanted to name him? He’d rejected it, but it had been an alright name. He’d just liked Five more.

Scowling at the inconvenience, he blinked to the kitchen. Klaus, who was yapping to nothing on a table, shrieked and dropped his cup. 

“Jesus, Fivey! Scared the bejeezus out of us, didn’t it, Ben? Oh, shut up, you did _not_ know he was coming. You’re not that omnipotent, you know—“ 

“Where’s Mom?”

“Why d’you wanna know?”

Five scowled for the seventeenth time that day. “None of your business, junkie.”

“Hey! I’m CLEAN!” yelled Klaus as Five rolled his eyes and blinked away.

He found her on his third guess. She was cleaning Reginald’s old office. Five suppressed a smile—before Reginald’s death, she would never have set foot near it. Now no one had reprogrammed her; she was thinking on her own. It seemed small, but it wasn’t to the siblings (especially Diego, who had cried when Mom went to the convenience store for the first time). 

Five was off topic. He’d come for information.

“Mother, what was the name you had picked out for me?”

She straightened and smiled. “Oh, dear, that was so long ago. I remember. But I didn’t pick it out, dear; your mother did.”

“What?”

“Your mother happened to be in a hospital when she had you, darling. Getting a broken arm set. You and Allison are the only ones with birth certificates.”

Five frowned. “What was the name?”

————

Quincy Nicholas.

Obviously he wouldn’t use all of it. It was a bit of a stupid name after all. So Jeff. Or Quinn. Back in his room, Five sighed. 

_Legal name._ Quincy F. Hargread. Alright. 

Half an hour and two binders of paperwork later, he was done. Blinking back to the living room, he dropped the binders on the coffee table. From the couch, Allison raised her eyebrows. “Finished already?”

“Vanya will pose as my caretaker and older sister. She will keep her first name. I’ve changed our last name to Hargread.”

Allison smiled, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I’m really glad you’re warming up to this.” When she saw Five’s sneer, she sighed and continued warily. “It will be good for you. We’ve all been talking.”

Five’s eyes narrowed. “All—“

“Yes, _all_ of us, because we’re all your siblings and we love you. And we want the best for you. Which includes this. Unanimous decision.”

This wasn’t news to Five, but somehow he was still offended. “Discussing things like this behind my _back_ is never the best for me.”

“Well, you did the paperwork, and all that’s left is to drop it off. You saw the clothes I bought. I stuck to greys and browns and button-ups, before you start yelling, so you don’t have to go shopping. Vanya will take it down to the school and you’ll start on Monday. How’s that?” She smiled. 

“Fine. Remember, one week. You promised.”

And with that, Five was gone.

He spent the next day in his room. It was Sunday. Vanya popped in to tell him she was taking the papers for registration, but other than that, he was alone. 

On Monday Allison woke him up at seven. One uncomfortable breakfast, two clothing arguments, and two and a half hours later, Five was staring out the backseat window of Vanya’s car, fuming. 

“Um, Five? We’ve been parked in front of the school for ten minutes.”

Five kicked open the door. “If you’re not here at four on the dot, I will key your car.”

Vanya smiled. “I love you too. Have fun.” Five scowled and stormed away as she called after him. “And try to make a friend!”


	2. the hottest twins you've ever seen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> watched the entirety of s2 in one day, and let me say I am SO ready for five's inevitable complete breakdown in season 3. that guy's literally had the WORST fortnight

Vanya had met with the principal yesterday when she was handing off the paperwork, and thus Five had his crumpled schedule in his hand. He stared at it now as he approached the school doors. Homeroom. English. Algebra. Et cetera. Et cetera. 

He should probably check his backpack; he had no idea what was in there. So he’d find a bathroom, and—

Someone shoved him inside the school, and the Windows shutdown sound played in his head, because he hadn’t counted on there being so many— _ people.  _ He stood, staring, mind completely blank, for probably ten minutes, until an adult tapped him on the shoulder. He yelled and stopped himself mid-teleport.  _ Public place. No jumping.  _

The adult bent down to face him. “Hello. Are you alright?”

Five nodded, eyes wide. His mind was still catching up with his senses. He managed to get a word out. “New.”

She smiled kindly, but something about her reminded Five of the Handler, and inexplicable rage began to bubble up inside of his chest. He took a deep breath and focused on not Patrick Swayze-ing her where she stood--an action that meant he didn’t notice when she pried the schedule out of his white-knuckled hands. 

“Okay, honey...Quincy, is it? Or do you go by Quinn?”

“Neither,” said Five, and failed to elaborate. Concern flickered over the woman’s face, and she laid a hand on the small of his back, ushering him forwards. 

“Your schedule puts you in Mrs. Hoffman’s first period, okay? That’s just down the hall, right there. I’ll walk you.” Another kind smile, and Five wanted to smash it in with a hammer. “I’m Miss Briggs, seventh and eighth grade counselor. Come to my office if you need anything, alright? Anything at all.” 

And with that, they were at the door. Miss Briggs tapped on the frame, and it swung open. Five found himself staring about twenty fourteen-year-olds in the face, and felt an insurmountable amount of disgust. An older woman at the front--Mrs. Hoffman, presumably--stood and ushered him in. 

“This must be Mr. Hargread. Class, we’ve got a transfer--Quincy, it says your name is, on the roster.” 

Five’s eye twitched, and he scrunched his nose. This was the first time in a while he’d gone hours without exercising his abilities in any capacity, and he found he was jittery as hell. He needed to get this energy out, or he’d do something bad. “I don’t go by that.”

“What do you go by?”

“Five.”   
  
“Like the number?” Mrs. Hoffman looked doubtful, and there was a slight snicker from the back of the classroom. Five zeroed in on the laughter--a mousy-looking girl with her friends. He couldn’t kill them, but he sure as hell would remember them.

“Yes. Like the number.” He shifted his weight; the jitters were building up and he needed to sit down. He was afforded that luxury a minute later, and chose the furthest seat from the front he could. Some kids whispered as he sat--there were two empty seats next to him, and it was suspicious, but he’d just realized he completely forgot to take his medication, and Dolores’ whispers were beginning to build up in the back of his head. 

Mrs. Hoffman began to speak at the front of the class, but was interrupted not even a minute later when the door swung open. Five looked instinctively, and regretted it.

The prettiest girl he’d ever seen waltzed in, wearing a jumper and a beanie. A slight smattering of freckles crossed her face, and the room was quiet as she looked behind her for someone. Five realized his mouth was open.

Number Five Hargreeves had never been a creature of passion. His relationship with Dolores had formed out of pure necessity, and though he had been grateful for it, the ever-present problem of survival cancelled out any real romantic endeavors. They’d never even kissed, which probably would have been weird anyway...The point was that Five hadn’t been around other people long enough to be attracted to them. Ever. So this was very strange, and he sniffed and scowled on reflex. 

The girl met his eyes, and almost jumped. Five realized he was probably glaring, and tried to fix it with a smile. It didn’t work. She grimaced, and his ego clattered to the bottom of his chest. 

Just then, the teacher spoke. “Cindy, you’re late. Where is your brother?” 

Cindy blinked, and seemed to realize she was still at the front. “Uh, I was helping him find something. A jacket. Um--” She looked behind her, lost for words, until a tall blond boy shuffled in behind her. 

The boy smiled wide, and his teeth were whiter than the shirt he was wearing. “Yeah, I left my jacket in the locker room, and we had to go get the key. Here’s our pass.” He handed a slip of paper to the teacher and winked, and Five completely forgot about Cindy. He watched the boy walk with the same stony glare, until he realized he’d stopped right in front of his desk.

“We have seating charts. I sit there.” The boy grinned, unfazed. “You’re new, so it’s fine. Move, though.”

Normally, Five would have threatened to staple the kid’s intestines to his forehead, but he felt strangely calm looking at him, and his body was humming. He moved seats on autopilot, and went through the rest of the period staring at the side of the boy’s head, Dolores whispering her approval the whole time.

The bell rang, and Five fell out of his chair. Twenty-five teenage kids erupted into laughter, and it felt like a hail of bullets. So he did what he was trained to do and took cover. 

Crouched under the desk, he heard people whisper, click their phone cameras, and finally leave. He felt frantic, upset, and overwhelmed, and he knew he would probably snap at the next person to talk to him. A foot nudged his leg, and he uncurled himself reluctantly, peeking out from under the desk to see the boy from earlier. He held out his hand, and Five took it reluctantly, internally growling at the buzzing the physical contact gave him. 

Standing, Five noted that the kid was at least four inches taller. This made his face hot, and he thought about the fact that most of the goddamn kids in the school were taller than him. He steeled himself and let his usual mask of cold disgust settle over his face. 

The boy raised an eyebrow. “You’ve been staring at me all class. You mad about the seats or something?”

“I don’t give a shit about the seats,” seethed Five, unreasonably angry. 

“Okay...you’re creeping me out. My name is Robin Briggs, by the way, and I’m the only Robin in this grade, so if you hear the name, do me a favor and go in the other direction.” Robin smiled emptily and clapped Five’s shoulder. “Oh, and by the way, your new seat is over there.” He pointed across the room. “Can’t look at me there, bug-eyes.”

With that, Robin was gone, leaving Five alone, slackjawed. 

On the way to his next class, he stewed in his own discontent. Not only did he have no clue where he was going, but something bad was going on in his subconscious. He wished he had found time to let Grace run some physiological tests. He was technically fifty-eight years old, but the clarity and patience he’d gathered over the years had begun to wane away surprisingly fast. He felt impulsive and emotional, and memories were starting to fade. His time at the Commission still rang crystal clear, and so did his first thirteen years at home, but the apocalypse felt like a bad dream. It blurred together most of the time--even though every once in a while it would burst through in so much clarity that Five would have panic attacks that lasted hours.

He was worried. His superior mental state, maturity, and intelligence was what set him apart from his siblings, from everything and everyone else--if he was losing it, what did that mean? He decided he’d take things one problem at a time. First, meds, because the whispering in the back of his head was bordering on actual talking, which Five had decided was the tipping point. 

He ducked into a bathroom, dumping out his backpack on the counter. Notebooks and shit like that, and at the bottom, three pill bottles. He felt a little bad; someone had obviously arranged the supplies nicely, so he spent some time putting them back. 

Soon enough he stood, staring at the pill bottles. Two from the first one, and one from the other two--a lot of medication, but a necessary evil, he supposed. 

Just as he tipped the pills into his mouth, the bathroom door swung open, and Five spun around, defensive stance primed and ready.

Robin stared at him, brows furrowed. “You’re  _ so  _ fucking weird.”

But Five was starting to mellow out, and he grinned and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment


	3. does anyone want chapter three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi I left this alone for so long bc I was writing a story on my other account lol
> 
> but I woke up yesterday, found this on my google docs, and wrote forty. more. pages.
> 
> so enjoy five having a breakdown over these stupid twins. also robin is not what you all think he is hahahahahahahahahaha

Lunch was primed to be an awful affair. Five’s head was blessedly quiet after the medication, and his jitters had calmed, but he was learning a terrible thing about teenage children: they talked a  _ lot.  _ And news got around  _ fast.  _ So fast, in fact, that by fourth period kids he’d never seen before were giving him a wide berth, and teachers looked at him with pity. Five felt like he was close to caring about this, but he had been alone for forty-five years--what was one school day?   
  
When his class was let out for lunch and everyone grouped up to leave the room except him, though, he started to care. He was very aware that he probably looked like a loser, and shrunk under dozens of kids’ imaginary stares. Trudging out of the classroom, he bit his nails. The cafeteria was loud and bustling, and it was overwhelming--he would forget himself and jump--so he turned and made a beeline for the courtyard.

Outside it was nice. Scattered groups of kids sat under trees and on concrete, eating together, and no one saw Five come out. He smiled, calm, and found an empty bench in the shade near a corner. One of Vanya’s peanut butter sandwiches. His family cared about him, at least. He sat, bored, and doodled in one of his notebooks.

Twenty minutes later he heard whispering near him. Looking over, he saw Robin, his sister, and three other kids huddled on the ground, looking at Five out of the corner of their eyes.He gripped his pencil harder, nervous for no reason. It went on for five minutes until the bell rang. Glad to leave, Five made to stand, but the pretty girl from earlier--Robin’s sister--Cindy, her name was?--flounced up to him before he could, and dropped a crumpled note in his lap. 

“That’s from me and my brother.” Her smile was blinding. “He doesn’t like you--I think he was being mean.” Her eyes flicked down to Five’s open notebook, and widened.

“Is that ROBIN?! Oh my god!” 

Five followed her gaze. Sure enough, he’d been doodling Robin’s face, his eyes, hair, freckles, over and over again. He was a good artist. It’s what he had done in his downtime his entire life--usually diagrams or studies, and forty-five years of it had made him amazing at recall and representation. So there was no question; the figures on the paper were all Robin. Five’s face burned, and he realized he was not going to have a good time at this school.

“Oh my god--give me that--” Cindy snatched back the note and skidded back to her group, hand over her mouth, and Five stuffed all his things into his bag as fast as he could, running back inside the school, head down as the snickers and gasps began behind him.

He hid inside the bathroom during his next two classes. He’d made a fool of himself. At four o’ clock he was the first to leave the school, and felt relief as he made a beeline for Vanya’s car. 

The car door slammed, and Vanya jumped. 

“How was school?” She was smiling, Five could see, and he took a shaky breath.

“I didn’t go to the last two classes.” 

Vanya’s brow furrowed, ready to be disappointed, but when she snuck a glance over to Five she saw he was pale and shaking.

“If it was too much, that’s fine. I’ll call and let them know what happened.” The kind smile was back. “We’ll try again tomorrow. Did you make any friends?”

“Yes,” Five lied. 

That night he was excused from dinner (Allison had wanted to have family dinners with whoever was staying at the house--today it included Diego and Klaus, two people Five wasn’t sure he could deal with right now). He felt sick, so he didn't eat, and instead solved proofs until bed.

It was three am when he slept. Lay in a dark room and stared at the ceiling, actually; his head was ringing--he couldn’t get Robin’s face out of his head and he was having to clutch sheets to keep his hands from moving where he didn’t want them. It was an awful night, and in the morning Five blinked at new eye bags in the mirror.

______________

  
  


Five took a breath before stepping into the school, expecting to be engulfed in swarms of kids—but he was late; he’d spent too much time lingering outside, and now there were only stragglers in the halls. He remembered where his first class was.

Five had always had an acute sense of hearing. Most of the time, it was an asset. Today, as he skirted a corner, a whispered conversation snuck into his ears. 

_ “Isn’t that the new kid Finn was talking about?” _

_ “He’s obsessed with Robin or something. Queer.” _

Oh. So that’s what they were saying. He hunched down deeper into his shoulders.

First period Five remembered the new seat Robin had given him.  _ Can’t look at me there, bug-eyes.  _ Of course they all thought he was obsessed. He hadn’t really done anything to help his case. He sat in his old seat, and kept his eyes fixed forward.

At the end of class, he was expecting the bell, and only startled a little bit. Robin stayed sat at his desk, and for some reason, Five felt like he was supposed to stay too. When everyone—even the teacher—was gone, a pencil thunked against Five’s shoulder. He turned.

“Do you have a problem with me?” snapped Robin, scowl marring his handsome features. “Some sort of psychopath or something?”

Five shook his head. Normally he would have a retort, but today he just felt burning behind his eyes. So he decided to forgo the snappy remarks and just act cold.

“My sister lying or something? She said you were being weird, drawing me over and over like some kind of weirdo. I don’t even know you.”

Lying? Five felt a spark of relief—“It was a lie.”

“Really? Show me your notebooks.”

Panic. He hadn’t left the doodles at home. “No,” said Five, clutching his bag.

“Then she’s telling the truth!”

“She isn’t!”

“Give it—“ Robin lunged, knocking his chair to the floor and barreling over Five, who went into autopilot mode and had Robin’s face pinned to the desk in seconds. About to snap his neck, he heard faint yelling, remembered where he was, and leapt back like Robin was poison.

“What is wrong with you?!” yelled Robin. He ran at Five, who made a conscious effort not to kill him—letting himself be bowled over onto a desk. Robin, obviously expecting some type of fight, landed on top of him, face inches away from Five’s. 

The world disappeared, and all that was left was Robin’s face and his eyes and his freckles and his lips. Two inches and they would be kissing. It lasted forever, forever, and just as their lips touched—

“Ewwww! Get a room!” a shrill voice exclaimed. Five’s eyes flew open just in time to see Robin fling himself as far away as possible, shock written all over his face. Five turned to see the shrill voice’s owner, a girl with about forty long black braids, take in the scene and gasp.

“Robin?”

“He kissed  _ me!”  _ Robin screamed, redfaced. He turned to Five, seething. “Cindy was right—you are obsessed with me—“

“Robin, come on,” said Five, growing more uncomfortable as he noticed more and more people fill up the room. “It was an accident—“

“You’re in  _ love  _ with me!” shrieked Robin. Five, not knowing what to do, gathered his bags and ran. People parted for him, whispering and staring in awe and disgust.

Five dared not go into the courtyard again for lunch. He found an empty table in the corner of the cafeteria instead, and spread some notebooks out. He was going to try to work out some equations today, to keep himself busy. 

Someone plopped down next to him. “Don’t worry about it. I mean, they make up stories all the time, so most people know it can’t be true,” the person babbled, and Five looked up to see one of the biggest gap-toothed mouths he had ever laid eyes on. “I’m Avi,” the mouth said, and smiled even wider. 

Once he had got over his initial shock, Five asked a question. “What are you talking about?”

“You know, the Robin thing?”

“Oh. Yeah. That’s true.” Five turned back to his notebooks, willing himself not to care what this loud kid thought.

“Really? That you locked him in a classroom and threatened him so that he’d make out with you?”

“WHAT!”

“Oh, you didn’t know.” Avi looked frightened. “Sorry.”

“Shit.” Five stared at the table.

“Do you want me to help you?”

“Help me what?”

“Get back on Robin’s good side.”

“Why on earth would I want to be on Robin’s good side?” Five glared at the skinny boy next to him.

Avi shrugged. “It’s pretty important to have the Briggs twins not hate you, especially this year. Especially if you’re a boy.”

“Why?” Now Five was just curious.

“Well, Robin’s pretty tall and really good at sports, so he gets to play with the high school team down the street. So if he doesn’t like you, the football team there doesn’t like you, and that means you don’t get into any clubs or sports next year because most people are afraid of the football team. And then if Cindy hates you, it’s even worse, because you’ll never get a date to the high school dances. Or at all.”

“I don’t want either of those things."

“Oh. Well—“ Avi went silent in thought. “If you want to get into college, you probably need clubs. But I can see about the second thing. Cause you’re gay and all.”

“I’m not gay.” Five stared at him, eyes wide.

“So you didn’t try to kiss Robin?”

“It was an accident,” said Five, but his voice wavered.

“O...kay…” Avi blinked, unsure. “But you still don’t care about getting dates?”

Five blinked. Being a kid in public school was a full time  _ job.  _ There were just as many rules—both spoken and unspoken—as the Commission, and the hierarchy was just as complicated. But in the Commission, he had navigated perfectly—to the top of the pecking order in months—whereas here, he knew nothing, and he already had a reputation. Maybe it would be good to listen to Avi.

On the other hand, he really didn’t care about getting dates.

“Sure,” he said anyway. “I’ll let you help.”

Both twins turned out to be in Five’s last two classes. All Robin did was glare at him and wipe his mouth whenever he caught Five looking, and Cindy passed notes with her friends and snickered. He was almost happy when school ended and Avi appeared next to him.

“Who picks you up?” He bounced on his heels, energy radiating off of him.

“My sister.”

“Cool! Can I ride home with you?” He smiled. Five frowned, ready to insult Avi and send him off—but then remembered how Vanya had wanted him to make friends.

“Sure. I have a big house.”

Sure enough, Vanya was more than thrilled that Five was bringing a friend home, and talked more animatedly on the drive home than Five had ever seen her—he was grateful. Avi’s boundless energy was tiring.

In the house Avi was even louder; this was probably because of the echo.

“Where’s your room?” He grinned, and Five gave Vanya a bored thumbs up before turning up the stairs.

\----------------------

Five’s walls had been painted over twice, at his request. First to cover all the math, because looking at it panicked him; second because Klaus in some terrible joke had managed to convince Luther that Five wanted the walls  _ red.  _ Now they were a cool gray, and Five was glad for it. 

Avi sat on the bed. Fell on it, more accurately. “So what did happen at school?”

Five fidgeted. “It’s not important.”

  
“Well, I need to know or I can’t help you,” he laughed. Five averted his eyes. Avi was full of too much joy, and it felt wrong for him to indulge in it.

“The golden retriever masquerading as that Cindy girl gave me a note at lunch yesterday, but she thought I was drawing Robin, took the note back, and left. Robin tried to take my notebooks to see the drawings today. He knocked me over. That’s it.” 

“You’re an artist! That’s so cool!” Avi laughed shrilly, bouncing on the mattress. He was messing up the perfectly tucked sheets. Five twitched. “Oh. Wait. Off topic, okay--she gave you a  _ note? _ ”   
  
“Yeah? Why’s that important?”

“Dude! You won! Means she likes you.”

Five frowned. “She definitely does not. How small is your brain?”

  
“No, she just thinks you’re cute. Well, not anymore, but I bet we could get her to like you again.”   
  
Five blinked. He remembered how beautiful Cindy was.

“Sure,” he said with a smile that did not reach his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please comment I know I left you all alone for so long but the news of season three has awoken me from my slumber and I am back <3 tell me what you think


	4. robin's got a problem!! robbie's got a probbie

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> in this chapter we HAVE:  
> -number five figures out cell phones  
> -more Cindy!! that lovely girl  
> -avi is Suspicious  
> -number five CANNOT turn down deals ffs  
> -robin acting so damn sus   
> and bonus:  
> -guest appearance by Vanya!

“Anybody want to try to name any more major themes? Come on, what was the author trying to  _ express? _ ”   
  
Five had learned earlier in the week he didn’t need to try in this class. The girls at the front, and Norman, who always wore a suit, would answer every question. Instead of participating, he focused on waiting for Cindy to ask for the bathroom. She asked every day almost exactly twenty minutes into class.

When her hand shot up, right on schedule, he began to count. Thirty counts after she left the room he asked to fill his water bottle. The teacher seemed poised to deny him, but one cold smile had her ushering him out of the room.

He caught sight of Cindy’s ponytail swishing around a corner. She’d stopped by her locker, like always, and he hummed, jumping as close as he could afford and jogging to catch up.

Three, two--one--

“Watch where you’re going!” Cindy screeched as she toppled. Remembering the Robin incident, Five maneuvered to the side, landing on her left.

“So sorry--here--” He was busy, scooping her wallet and phone cases (there were four different ones for absolutely no reason) into her small purse. She sat, accustomed to having things like this done for her, and watched. 

“You follow me a lot,” she said, but her eyes betrayed no malice.

“Not really. Maybe you just notice me.” The shark-like grin was back, and Cindy grimaced. Shit. Five thought about a happy memory, sneaking out for donuts with Ben years and years ago, and the smile reappeared, softer. Cindy visibly relaxed.

“So where are you from?” said Cindy. 

“I moved here. From--Wisconsin.” 

“That’s nice,” said Cindy. “Sorry about that whole thing with my brother, by the way.”   
  
“No problem. It’s fine,” said Five, wondering what she thought had happened.

“He just thinks cause he’s on the high school football team he gets to act like them. You should see the stuff he talks about,” said Cindy, and Five realized that she didn’t believe Robin’s story. It was cute.

He had to go anyway. The point had been made; now he knew she didn’t hate him; now she was thinking about him.

“See you,” he said, already halfway back to the classroom. Affording a look back at the door, he saw she was still sitting where he had left her.

Score.

____________

A little bit less of a score, when Robin stalked up to him at lunch a week later. 

(The whole week, Five had been following Avi’s advice--running into Cindy at lockers, “accidentally” sitting next to her every chance he got, making her small gifts of things she liked like peach chapstick or moleskin notepads--despite the fact that she wasn’t really responding to any of it.)

“Follow me, nerd,” said Robin. Five got up from his seat and trailed behind him. Looking back, he saw Avi making frantic  _ abort mission  _ motions, and shrugged,  _ what can I do?  _

When Robin led him to a deserted alleyway between wings of the school, he wasn’t worried. A quick assessment, and he knew Robin would be slow on lunges and heavy on his right side. Five could dispatch him in minutes if it came to that. 

He startled, though, when Robin turned, because there was a kind of cold calculation in his eyes.

“How old are you?” asked Five, frowning and squinting.

“Fifteen,” smirked Robin.  _ Is that old for an eighth grader?  _ thought Five.

“Let’s get to it. What do you want?” This reminded him of years ago in other alleyways--he found himself slipping back into that cold indifference he’d always had, negotiating some awful, terrible deal. 

“I know what you’re doing, asshole.”

“And what would that be?”

“You’re trying to date my dumbass sister. Back the fuck off.” Robin was seething. Five almost laughed.

“No. I don’t have to. She likes me,” said Five, trying to push his buttons.

“Listen, dumbass! She won’t go out with you. Ever. You’re scrawny and weird, and no one’s forgotten that you’re obsessed with me.” 

Five suddenly saw that Robin was, in fact, more than four inches taller than him. 

“I can make your life miserable. You forgot that’s my sister, and if I hate you, so does she.”

“What do you want me to do?” 

Robin smiled, shark teeth. “Where’s your phone?”

“I don’t have one. It’s unnecessary,” said Five, faltering on the last few words, because Robin was moving forward, forcing him to back against the wall.

“Well, get one. I need your number.” He was bent down, face close again. Five was aware of static in his head.

“What?” 

“I’ll get you a date with Cindy. Sure. But you have to do some things for me first.”   


“Like...what?”

“Get a phone first, bitch.” He was gone, leaving an awful feeling in the pit of Five’s stomach. 

\----------

“That’s  _ bad,  _ Five! He basically threatened you!”   
  
“He can’t do anything to me,” said Five, shoving books in his locker. “I could take him out in five minutes. He’s clumsy. And it’s not like he could hurt my family.”

“Despite the fact that I’m only just now learning you don’t have a phone,” said Avi, “he wants you to  _ get  _ one? So he can have your number? That is so sketchy.”

“Shouldn’t I at least see? It’s practically handed to me. On a silver platter. I just have to do this thing he wants, and then we can stop with this whole charade. He’ll get Cindy to like me.”

“What if it’s a really bad thing?”

“I’ve definitely done worse.” The locker door slammed.

\------------

Vanya was ecstatic when Five asked for a cell phone. She came to his room the next day with a small box wrapped in ribbon, which made Five smile.

“This is expensive. You didn’t have to.”

“But I wanted to,” said Vanya, smile so big it almost split her face in two. 

“Thank you,” said Five, already glued to the screen.

\-----------

In the alleyway, Robin punched his number into Five’s contacts. 

“You do anything I tell you to, don’t you?” he said, handing it back.

“I don’t,” snarled Five. “Now what do you want?”

“Come to a football game,” smiled Robin. “We’re playing on Friday. We’ll win, if you’re there.”

Five blinked. “A football game?”

“At the high school. I’ll pick you up. Send me your address.”

Five gaped. “Huh?”

“I’ve decided I like you, actually,” said Robin. “Text me.” And he was gone.

\----------

“You probably shouldn’t go,” said Avi, mouth stuffed of chocolate. They were standing at the vending machine in the back hall of the school. It hadn’t worked until Five had smashed the keypad in. 

“It’s so easy. I have to go,” said Five.

“I’m starting to feel like you don’t even  _ like  _ Cindy, though,” said Avi. “You kinda stopped talking to her a few days ago. And you don’t look at her. Like, at all.”

“I just have to,” said Five, who wouldn’t betray that deals were his weak spot; he couldn’t turn them down.

“Well--can you take me with you then?”

“It’s just me,” snapped Five, upset for some reason.

“Jeez! Okay. It’s just that if a football player takes you to a high school game you get to sit really close to the field and stuff. Which is cool, because you get to see, but also everyone will know one of them took you. Which might not be good.”

“No one can do anything to me,” said Five, as his phone went off. He checked it.

_ Robin: Picking you up at seven _

_ Robin: Do you live with your sister? _

“Who’s that?” snarfed Avi through a mouthful of chocolate, trying to peer at the phone.

“None of your concern.” 

_ Five: Yes, I live with my sister. _

\---------

_ Friday 6:55 A.M. _

_ Robin: u up? _

_ Five: Why are you texting me so early? _

_ Robin: bored _

_ Robin: what r u doing? _

_ Five: math _

_ Robin: you study for that class lmao _

_ Five: I’m in an advanced section. It’s calculus. _

_ Robin: lol smart  _

_ Robin: wanna ft  _

_ Five: What is ft? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Robin: nvm _

_ Five: What are you doing? _ _   
_ _   
_ _ Robin: talking to you :) _

_ Robin: what are you wearing _

_ Robin: to school _

_ Five: The same thing I always do. _

_ Robin: pics? _

_ Five: Of my clothes? _

_ Robin: yeah _

_ Five: Why? _

_ Robin: i wanna seeeeee :( _

_ Five: [2 attachments] _

_ Robin: nice _

_ Robin: take them off?? _

_ Five: What? _

_ Robin: lmao you don’t have to _

_ Robin: see you first period _

\--------------

Five stared at his phone all first period. Robin  _ liked  _ him. Why else would he ask for pictures? Something in the back of his head--sounding vaguely like Dolores, though he couldn’t tell (his meds had practically scrubbed her from his head by now and he couldn’t really remember how she sounded)--told him to be cautious, but he smashed it. He was practically buzzing.

Avi bombarded him with rules about the football game during lunch, but Five barely heard. He was just rereading the conversation.

_ Ding. _

_ Robin: come to the alley place i have something for you _

“I have to go,” said Five, stuffing his phone in his pocket. 

“There’s something you’re not telling me.” Avi pouted. “I’m trying to help you.”

“No--I just--I have tutoring,” said Five, smiling as creepily as he could. Avi flinched, and he felt a little bad.

“You never have tutoring,” Avi accused. “You’re like one of the smartest kids in this grade. You’re hiding something.”

“I promise you, I am not hiding anything.” Five’s eyes kept darting to the side. He was eager to go.

“If you’re not hiding anything, who do you keep texting?”   
  
“That’s none of your business!”

“I’m your best friend.”   
  
“You most certainly are not--”   
  
“I’m your only friend, then.”

Five went quiet. Avi was right. But he  _ felt  _ like talking to Robin.

“I’ll see you later.”   
  
“Tell me how the game went,” called Avi, and Five thought he heard a bit of mockery in his tone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> for the love of god comment I love it when I see yalls funky little words


	5. the football game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> two chapters in two days bc I may not post for a minute!! not too long don't worry I have fifty pages of this written n ready 2 go
> 
> yes I know robin is fifteen yes I know he is driving illegally and five not caring about that is the most canon thing I've written in this fic so far
> 
> <3 love

Waiting for Robin on Friday evening, Five turned the watch over in his hand. Robin had given it to him in the alleyway at lunch. 

“My dad’s favorite watch,” he had said. “But he never wears it. I nicked it for you.”

Five had tried to be wary, but found that he couldn’t. Somehow, he barely remembered Robin’s outburst weeks ago--or had already forgiven it, he couldn’t tell. Most of the kids at school still avoided him, because he had stopped talking to Cindy and Robin barely looked at him when there were people around. Five didn’t mind. He knew Robin liked him, and that was enough.

A knock on the door, and Five buckled the watch around his wrist and got up.

Klaus met him halfway to the door. “Vanya says you’re going to a high school football game, mein brother.” He grinned. Five’s eye twitched.

“Yeah, can’t deal with you right now--”

“Why the rush? Who’s picking you up?” Klaus turned and skipped to the door with a rash smile. “A girl? Oh, brother, growing up so fast--”   
  
“Shut  _ up!”  _ Five was in front of his brother in a flash of blue. “Get--go--”

Another knock. Five punched Klaus in the face. “LEAVE!”

“Owww! Come on, I want to meet your friends!”

Five shoved him into the coat closet and opened the front door. “Hi,” he beamed.

Robin peeked in. “You got a coat? It’s cold.”

“I’ll just get one--”   
  
“No need, here,” said Robin, and handed Five his letterman jacket.

“They make these for you?”

“I got the other footballers to get me one. Looks weird if I’m the only player without a jacket.”

“But if I’m wearing it--”   
  
“Just give it back to me when we get there. Kay?”

“Okay,” said Five, wishing that when he died he could be buried in the jacket. The door closed behind him.

Klaus fell out of the coat closet. “I’ve never been to a football game,” he mumbled. “Was that a  _ boy? _ ” 

\-----------

“I’m telling you! Five’s got a crush on a boy!”

“Maybe that’s just his friend? He’s been making friends,” said Vanya, lying back in the living room chair. Allison furrowed her brow, standing next to her.

“I don’t think Five has the capacity to have a crush on  _ anyone,”  _ Allison lamented. “I’ve barely got him to talk about school at all. Either he’s really becoming a teenager, or we made a mistake.”

“He went to a football game, that’s progress,” mumbled Vanya. Klaus groaned loudly, balancing on sofa cushions.

“He almost killed me because he didn’t want me meeting whoever was at the door to pick him up. But I heard him from the coat closet, he practically  _ melted,  _ like--Hiiiiii!” Klaus fluttered his eyelashes in a pale imitation of Five.

“The coat closet--whatever, I’m sure he’s just being ornery. I’m surprised he’s even gone out, though--I wouldn’t peg him as a football game type.” Allison frowned. “Even when we were kids.”

“So he has to be going for someone else,” grinned Klaus. “And I think it’s that  _ boy. _ Gave Five his letterman, too--”   
  
“Letterman?! Middle schoolers don’t have letterman jackets!”   
  
“They also don’t go to high school games, darling,” drawled Klaus. “He really is old enough to look after himself. He’s also not your kid, hon.”

“Please,” huffed Allison. “I’m making sure he’s safe. And I don’t care how old his brain is, or anything; he’s acting like he’s fourteen so I’ll treat him like it.” She made to storm out, but Vanya sighed loudly, which halted her.

“What if he’s getting taken advantage of?”   
  
“Really?” Allison stared. “He’s smart, Vanya; I’m sure--”   
  
“Yeah, he knows all this crazy stuff about math and time travel, and what Dad taught us before he left, but he’s really just a kid. Just a really tired kid, I think.”

“He’s so--” Allison stopped, looking to Klaus for help, but he just shrugged helplessly.

“He’s just been alone for so long--and he never really got to grow up with everyone else. I mean, he doesn’t know how people operate. He hasn’t been around them long enough.” Vanya took a breath. “So what if he’s not safe, and he can’t look after himself? You can’t solve all your problems with murder--not now at least--and I think that’s how he did it before.”

A pause.

Klaus cleared his throat. “So what do we do about that?”   


“I guess we just...watch him? Just check on him. Like a parent,” said Allison triumphantly.

“Still not his mom,” mumbled Klaus.

“What was that?”   
  
“Nothing, dear!”

\----------------

The car was a Tesla. It was a very attractive machine. 

Five sat in the passenger seat, listening to Robin talk about his comic book collection and running the fabric of the letterman through his fingers. He felt bubbly, barely there, which was because of Robin but also partly because he had panicked so much he’d taken a lot of emergency anxiety pills. 

He’d probably do anything for Robin right now, he thought, which scared him, but not as much as it maybe should have.

“I’m going through the drive-through, you want anything?” 

Five started. “Uh, no thanks.”

Ten minutes later Robin pulled into the high school’s parking lot. “It’ll fill up in about ten minutes. I’m playing, so I’m early. Jacket?” 

Five gave it over sadly.

“Thanks.” Robin leaned over, kissed Five on the cheek, then made to get out of the car. Five’s heart rate spiked. When Robin opened the car door for him, he got out stupidly, face wiped of emotion--when Robin grabbed him by the waist and rested his chin on Five’s head, the very last bits of conscious thought evaporated. They stayed like that for a minute or so, until Robin broke away, grinning.

“You  _ do  _ like me.”

“No,” muttered Five. 

“Let’s go in. Come on,” called Robin, already ten feet from the car.

\----------

Five was panicking. He was surrounded by loud, muscly football players, and Robin was nowhere to be seen. He’d introduced Five to them--some had snickered, the rest had just commenced to treat him like a child--and gone. So Five tried to melt into a bench, until a huge player with a 17 on his back sat next to him.

“Why’d Robin bring you here, champ?” He barely looked at Five, lacing his shoes.

“I’m not sure, actually,” said Five.

“Yeah. Over there, kid,” said Seventeen, and pointed to a section of the bleachers filled with smiling high school girls. Five blanched. But he went over anyway, and tried to sit as far from them as possible. 

When the game started--the bleachers had filled--Robin waved and smiled at Five as he jogged to his place. Five smiled back. The rest of the game, he watched Robin play, sighing at his tackles, throws, the perfect way he zipped across the field like a gazelle--maybe he’d been too harsh, in judging him earlier. Robin wasn’t clumsy at all; he was elegant. 

Of course Robin’s team won, thought Five when the final play was done and the people in the bleachers all stood and cheered. Of course they did. He stood and waved, smile big for the first time in ages. Robin looked up at him and whooped.

The drive back, Five had the jacket again. They talked animatedly about the game, about the players, and really about anything, till Robin pulled into an empty parking lot and reached over to touch Five’s face.

“What are you doing?” Five laughed. Robin leaned and kissed him. 

Sparks of strange warmth began to lift in the pit of Five’s stomach, and the intensity of it panicked him. But he didn’t stop, arms reaching around Robin’s neck, crushing them closer, forgetting breath and air and anything else--until, minutes later, flushed and panting, Robin pushed him away and scrabbled out of the car. 

Five stared, disoriented and confused. “Where are you going?” he called, looking after him, seeing Robin hunched over, hands on his knees. Oh no. He’d done something wrong. But Robin made a noise and shuffled back to the car, refusing to meet Five’s eyes. 

The drive back was silent. Five gave Robin the letterman when they pulled to the curb a block from his house.

“It’s a block down,” said Five, fidgeting.

“I know,” said Robin, jaw set, staring ahead into the road. Five got out of the car.

\-------------

When he slammed the door, noticeably without a letterman and very visibly angry, Klaus flinched from the corner.

“See, Allison? Something’s happened,” he muttered. Allison, next to him, rolled her eyes. 

“Want me to check his phone or something? I’m sure he’s fine, Klaus.”

“Maybe that’s a good idea.”   


“What, now  _ you’re  _ advocating for strict parenting? Unbelievable! The kid who did drugs under his dad’s nose for years.”

“Yeah, and look how I turned out,” snapped Klaus. “Check on him, that’s all I’m saying! Public school is vicious, and if I do anything, I’ll be dead before sunrise. Come oooooon, sister dearest of mine--”   
  
“Fine, Klaus,” said Allison. “I’ll check his stuff. But I’m sure you’re overreacting.”

\------------

Five stared at his ceiling, wondering where exactly he had gone wrong. Robin definitely liked him. Maybe he was a bad kisser--it wouldn’t be too far-fetched; he’d never kissed anyone. But enough to make Robin do  _ that?  _ He turned on his side, stomach roiling.

_ Ding. _

_ Friday 11:48 P.M. _

_ Robin: sorry about today _

_ Robin: i got confused lol _

_ Robin: i still like you _

_ Five: That’s ok. _

_ Five: It was a bit much _

_ Robin: i dont think so lmao _

_ Robin: i think we should do whatever we want _

_ Five: What do you mean? _

_ Robin: what are you wearing rn? _

_ Five: Just sweatpants and a tshirt? _

_ Robin: pics? _

_ Five: You keep asking for pictures, why? _

_ Robin: bc i think ur hot _

_ Robin: come onnnnn _

_ Five: [2 attachments] _

_ Robin: see, hot _

_ Five: Thanks _

_ Robin: does your sister have any like, underwear? Pretty stuff? _

_ Five: Huh? _

_ Robin: can you put it on for me? _

_ Five: You want me to wear my sister’s underwear? _

_ Robin: pleeeease? for me?  _

_ Five: I don’t think I’m comfortable doing that. _

_ Robin: ok later then _

_ Robin: just send nude ones? _

_ Five: Like what? _

_ Robin: make it pretty? classy shit ik ur like that _

_ Saturday 12:30 A.M. _

_ Robin: helloooo _

_ Saturday 2:13 A.M. _

_ Five: [2 attachments] _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh oh robin's THAT kind of closeted jock
> 
> when you're a tall and attractive eighth grader I don't think being surrounded by a bunch of high school football boys almost twenty four/seven is going to be the best thing you can do
> 
> please leave comments I get so hyped when I read those little sentences


	6. five is confronted with several realities

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> this chapter is so long oh my god
> 
> y'all the only reason the update speed is like this is because its all prewritten and I have no (I repeat NO) impulse control when it comes to my hyperfixations
> 
> disclaimer if you have the five nose like with that little ridge bump thing i think its so regal and cool it is literally one of my favorite noses. robin is a dickhead who only thinks about eurocentric disney princess beauty standards. also if you haven't noticed pLease look at fives nose its so beautiful its my favorite thing its literally shaped perfectly and I love it so much I wish it was on my face
> 
> also I just really wanted mom allison bc it fills a void in my soul and also she's my adoptive mom

At school Monday Five felt everyone was looking at him. He shrunk into his sweater. 

“What happened at the game? You didn’t call me!” Avi was next to him in half a second, already looking to have forgotten their almost-fight on Friday. Five cleared his throat.

“Nothing happened. We just went to the game. It was fun.”

“You know what, I can tell you’re hiding something, and I’m about to lose it, Number,” Avi proclaimed, arms crossed. “Did he get you the date with Cindy, at least?”   
  
Five froze. He’d forgotten about the date. “Uh, I backed out of it. I don’t like her. Anymore.”

“Something happened, dude. And you’re not telling me,” Avi muttered.

_ Ding. _

_ Robin: hey meet me in bathrooms 10:30 _

“Let’s go to class,” said Five.

\-------------

Five stumbled out of a bathroom stall, hair messy, lips swollen, and assessed himself in the mirror. 

“Can’t fix this,” he mumbled as Robin meandered out of the same stall. “Robin? Do I look okay?”

“Look great, babe,” he yawned, slinging an arm around Five’s shoulders. “Let’s skip.”

“I’m not skipping,” said Five.

“Do you want everyone to know I toss you around like a doll?”

Five frowned. “Huh?”

“Then let’s skip,” said Robin, hoisting Five by the waist. Five yowled and clawed his way out.

They ended up sneaking out the back of the school to make out in Robin’s Tesla during fifth period. 

Robin’s hands kept moving down, and Five had to reposition them so many times it got irritating. He broke away and groaned, kicking the door open.

“What’s wrong?” Robin reached for him.

“Don’t touch me.” Five scowled. “You keep trying to put your hands where I don’t want them. Keep them to yourself.”

“We’re literally making out,” said Robin, low and a bit angry. “Don’t tell me what I  _ can’t  _ do.”

Five stared at him. “You can’t touch me or hurt me. Do I make myself clear?” Robin’s face was getting redder by the minute, but Five barely registered it. He huffed and turned to leave, but felt a hand close around his wrist before he could.

He whipped around. “What are you doing?!”

“Apologize.”

“What.” Now Five was seeing red.

“Apologize, and we can just forget this, okay?” Robin’s smile was tight. Five started to feel uncomfortable.

“What would I have to apologize for?” he hissed. Robin’s hand shot up to clench Five’s jaw. He probably didn’t know it, but Robin had Five’s head in a death grip; any kneejerk reaction might break his neck. Now Five was a little scared.

“Say you’re sorry, babe.”

Five stared up into Robin’s cold brown eyes and blinked. “Sorry.” It was muffled, but good enough, and Robin smiled and let go of his jaw. 

“Was that so hard?” he said, kissing Five’s forehead.

Rubbing the finger-shaped marks on his jaw, Five watched him swagger back into the school. Now he was mad. He didn’t answer any of Robin’s texts for the rest of the day.

At the bell, Five stormed out, slamming Vanya’s car door. She jumped.

“Is something wrong? How was school?”

“Awful,” Five groused, staring at his seven missed texts.

“Did you get overwhelmed or something?”

“No!” Five was annoyed now.

“It’s just that I got an email, from one of your teachers and she said that you didn’t show up for fifth period, so I was wondering if you had an attack or we need to get your meds filled or—“

“Could you just leave me alone? You’re not my mom!” 

Vanya went quiet for the rest of the ride. 

At the house, Five disappeared up the stairs almost immediately. Vanya peeked into the living room; seeing Klaus on the sofa, she went up to him.

“Klaus, I need your help.”

“Yeech! God, you startled me, Vanny.” Klaus smiled, ruffling her hair. “What’s up?”

“I think something’s up with Five.”

“Don’t have to say that twice,” Klaus muttered, turning back to the shirt he was patching. “What did you notice?”

“He was being weird on the drive home, and I think I saw bruises on his neck, or something...Oh! He also skipped fifth period. I got an email from a teacher.”

“Think he just had an episode?"

“I asked him about it, and last time he had one he was pretty fine with letting us help, but this time he just yelled at me. Something’s wrong.”

Klaus put down the shirt. “Vanny, I am going to tell you something you won’t like.”

Vanya shrugged, confused. “Well, sure. What is it?”

“Five is having relationship drama.”

“He’s not in a relationship,” Vanya said, frowning.

“We don’t know that,” said Klaus, smiling. “I hid several horny boyfriends from Dad when we were kids.”

“That just seems...like such a not-Five thing to do,” Vanya mused. “And the marks on his neck—oh, ew!”

“Yeah,” Klaus sighed. “I remember. He’s trying to be a teenager, Vanya, let him be. Just make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid.”

——————

Five was in a particularly frustrating FaceTime call when Allison knocked at his door. He’d fielded several of Robin’s missed calls before deciding to answer, and they’d been arguing for an hour. You couldn’t kiss over the phone, which wasn’t helping matters either.

“My sister’s here,” he snapped. “The sister whose underwear you wanted me to steal, by the way. Which is fucking weird.”

“It’s  _ weird  _ to want you to look nice for me? I honestly thought you liked me but if you hate me that much then—“

“Why do you always say I hate you when I tell you to stop doing something! At this point I’m going to start actually despising you!”

“No one else is ever gonna wanna date you, fucking bitch—“

Five ended the call. “Come in,” he moped.

Allison opened the door. “Who was that on call?” She sat on his bed, brow furrowed.

“Nobody important.” Five scowled at his phone. “What is it, Allison?”

“I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

_ Ding. _

_ Robin: I don’t wanna fight ok _

_ Robin: i love u _

_ Robin: ill literally do anything for u _

_ Robin: pls answer _

“I’m fine,” said Five, stealing glances at his phone. 

“You’ve been really closed off lately. We were making progress,” said Allison. She frowned a bit, watching Five try to sneakily text.

_ Five: You’re such a hypocrite _

“And I just--want to make sure that everything is going okay at school? You know you can tell me anything.”

_ Robin: So you just fucking hate me that much  _

_ Five: I don’t hate you. I just think you need to be a lot more considerate of how I feel because you literally never take that into account.  _

_ Robin: k whatever are we good then _

“Five, who are you texting?”

“No one,” mumbled Five, clearly typing.

_ Five: Sure. Whatever. _

_ Robin: babe can you send pics? its been a really long day _

_ Robin: plsssss just like a couple _

“Okay, that’s enough,” said Allison, snatching the phone before Five could say anything. 

“Give it back!” Panic barreled into him like an eighteen-wheeler, and he lunged at Allison, trying to snatch the phone. 

“What’s on here you don’t want me to see?”

“Nothing! Privacy! Give it back!” Five screeched. Allison humphed and yanked the phone away again.

“Don’t make me—Five—I heard a rumor you sat still!” She let out a breath as Five fell onto the bed, still yelling. “What’s on this phone? What are you doing?”

“I’m not doing anything! I’m older than you! You can’t treat me like this!”

“I’m starting to think you lied and you’re actually sixteen or something, Five, because this is  _ not  _ how a mature person acts.”

“Please don’t look through my phone,” Five said, a last resort.

“Who’s been texting you? Who is Robin?” Allison said, squinting at the phone. “I’ve never heard of him.” She scrolled, eyes widening. “ ‘Babe’? This is your boyfriend?”

“Not really,” muttered Five. “Please stop scrolling.” 

Allison didn’t stop scrolling. Her jaw dropped. She turned the phone off and slipped it into her pocket. “You are  _ clearly  _ not responsible enough to have that phone.”

Five’s face went red. “You’re not my mom! You’re barely a mom to your own kid! Go parent her!”

“I don’t listen to insults from children, Five. This is so extremely irresponsible!”

“It’s not my  _ fault!  _ He  _ asked! _ ”

“Five, these messages are predatory! This is—I don’t want you getting hurt, okay? This boy, Robin, is not a nice guy.”

“He’s very nice, actually, you’re taking things out of context—“

“This is the guy you were on call with? Same guy I heard calling you a ‘fucking bitch’ from outside the room a minute ago?”

“You were eavesdropping!”

“How could I, when he was yelling so damn loud!” Allison took a breath, fingers pressed to the bridge of her nose. “Five, I’m just worried about you. You aren’t grounded or anything. You’re right, I’m not your mom.” She sighed. “But Vanya bought you that phone, and I honestly don’t think you’ve earned it. So I’m regifting it.”

“For how  _ long?! _ ” Five seethed.

“I don’t know, Five, until I don’t have to worry about you! And I want you to break it off with this Robin kid. Whatever’s going on. There are better people, I promise,” she said, leaning down to give him a hug. “Almost forgot. I heard a rumor you could move normally.” Five fell out of his straightlaced seated position and off of the bed. “I love you,” Allison said, and turned to leave the room. Five stared after her, fuming.

\---------------

“Klaus! Vanya, you there?” called Allison when she got to the bottom of the stairs.

“Yep,” yelled Klaus. “Did you talk to Five?”

“I took his phone for a bit,” said Allison, walking up to them. “Klaus, I really hate to say it, but you were right.”

“He’s got a boyfriend? Knew it!” Klaus laughed, pumping his fist. “Wait, you took his phone? Straight up took it?”

“That boy he’s talking to isn’t good for him. He’s regressing. Slipping into—he’s not really acting like himself,” sighed Allison.

“So you took the phone? It doesn’t make sense,” said Klaus, pouting. “You sure you’re not just being, like, mom-paranoid?”

“I was right about Leonard, and I’m right about this boy,” she retorted. “We’ve established I’m good at spotting this kind of stuff.”

“He is acting like himself,” muttered Vanya. 

“What?” said Allison, frowning. “What do you mean?”

“You guys never talked to him when we were kids. Like, ever,” said Vanya. “He’s not acting how he acted when he first came back, but this is how he used to be. All the time.”

“Really?” Allison stared, incredulous.

“Yeah. Really impulsive, remember? And he just didn’t think about  _ anything.  _ If he wanted to do something and someone said no, he’d just do it anyway in a couple of days and he wouldn’t learn until something went wrong. It’s how he went missing,” Vanya said. “I thought he grew out of it, but maybe not.”

“Oh,” said Allison, dread stilling her face. “So until something really bad happens, he won’t listen to us.”

“Maybe not,” piped up Klaus, eyes big. “Maybe he’ll come to his senses—what is he even doing? How bad is this kid he’s talking to?”

“Manipulative,” said Allison. “Some football player who’s got Five convinced he actually likes him. Don’t read the messages, they’re bad.” She handed Vanya the phone. 

Vanya sighed. “I won’t. Klaus, can you take Five to school tomorrow? I have an early make-up lesson; one of my younger students caught the flu last week and couldn’t make it.”

“Yeah, I’ll take him,” Klaus said, beaming.

“Can you even drive?”

“Better than you, Allison.”

——————-

_ Tuesday 3:46 A.M. _

_ Five: Sorry, my sister took my phone. I had to get it when she went to bed. _

_ Robin: she didnt read our shit did she _

_ Robin: hello _

_ Five: No, she didn’t. _

_ Robin: good lmao _

_ Robin: babe i miss you _

_ Robin: parents arent home thursday, come over? _

_ Five: To do what? _

_ Five: oh _

_ Five: Not sure if I can Thursday _

_ Robin: whats more important than me _

_ Robin: i know ur not blowing me off to do fucking calculus _

_ Robin: dont be a bitch _

_ Five: I just don’t know if I want to come over, okay? Can you not overreact for once? _

_ Robin: how am i overreacting when ur literally fucking me over for no reason _

_ Five: I’m not fucking you over! _

_ Robin: then prove it, come over thursday  _

_ Five: Fine. _

Five took a breath and deleted the texts before shutting the phone off.  _ Shit.  _ Now he had promised to—do what? On Thursday? He was breathing fast, and his chest felt smaller than normal. It would be fine, he promised himself. Teenagers did this kind of shit all the time. It was practically a requirement for being a teenager.

He wished he could tell someone, and for the first time in weeks and weeks, Five began to miss Dolores.

This feeling carried over into the next morning, as he poured three cups of coffee down his throat and slumped, still half-asleep, into the passenger seat of Vanya’s car.

“How’s your morning, dear?” chirped Klaus from the driver’s seat. Five startled and blinked.

“Why are you driving?”

“Vanya’s got a lesson. Vamonos!” The car lurched twice before kicking into gear. Five white-knuckled the armrests for stability.

“Now, brother—Vanya tells me you have a boyfriend,” said Klaus, grinning. Five was very annoyed. 

“Barely,” he muttered.

“What do you mean?” Klaus asked innocently.

“He doesn’t treat me like a boyfriend. He just—throws me around. ‘Like a doll.’ He literally said that to me, you know,” Five griped.

“That’s not good,” said Klaus. “And I’ve had my share of terrible boyfriends, so I know. He’s not pressuring you or anything, is he?”

Five was silent.

“Number Five? Baby bro? He isn’t making you do anything?”

“He’s not  _ making  _ me do anything,” muttered Five, eyes in his lap.

“Bad idea, Five,” said Klaus, side-eyeing him knowingly.

“Coming from  _ you? _ ”

“Exactly! I know a bad idea because I think I’ve had every possible one,” Klaus proclaimed. “I’ve been through a bunch of situations like this.”

“You have never been to a public school.”

“Oh, lies—I did take a pottery class at a community college once, and even though I technically wasn’t enrolled at the school I  _ still  _ found a way to have an affair with both the professor of the class and a lovely lady named Kate. It ended badly; I couldn’t walk for a week—“

“Has it ever occurred to you that nobody wants to _ hear  _ about these things?”

“My bad, sorry,” sang Klaus. “The moral of the story is that most people are bullshit, love. Always have been and always will be, and when you find a good one, they’re not gonna make you feel like you feel right now.”

“How would you know?”

“One time, God decided she was fond of me and sent me the perfect person. Loved him a lot,” said Klaus, quieter than normal. “Anyway, he didn’t ask me to do sketchy things and he treated me like a princess. Whenever he could.” The car screeched to a stop at an intersection, and Klaus turned to meet Five’s eyes. “You don’t have to settle for less, you know,” he said.

Five couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m going to his house on Thursday.”

Klaus sighed and the car moved forward. “I know I can’t stop you. Just--think about it, ‘kay? For me.”

Five rolled his eyes, but nodded, and the rest of the drive was silent.

\---------------

“Wait. What?!” Avi stared, bug-eyed. They were in the boys’ bathroom near the back of the school, the one that no one used, and the echo was loud.

“Shhh. You can’t tell anyone.”

“Wait--so for the past, like, two weeks, all that weird shit you’ve been doing is because you were hooking up with  _ Robin?! _ ”

“We’re not hooking up, we’re just--” Five took a breath. “He really likes me. I think he might even love me. And he wants to actually hook up, like on Thursday, but I don’t know about it because he’s been acting a little weird lately--”

“You think Robin is in LOVE with you??” Avi gaped. “Bro, like--no. Like, no.”

“Okay, but you haven’t read the messages.”

“I’m serious, Five, you gotta get out of this. Dude’s a football player. Even if he did like you, okay, he’d never actually date you! Not in public! Ever! His family’s, like, conservative as shit, bro. His uncle’s the mayor and he’s a hardcore Republican.”

“Well--” Five sighed and rolled his eyes. “That doesn’t matter, that’s his family, not him--”

“This is such a bad idea. This is such a bad idea, you don’t even know,” moaned Avi. 

“You’re just mad,” muttered Five.

“No, dude, I’d never in a million years go for Robin! Worst possible choice, man!”

“He went for me!” spat Five.

“No, you went for his sister, and he’s trying to get  _ back  _ at you!” 

“How would that even work?!”

“Do you seriously not--You actually like him!”

“Thought that was obvious? Or maybe not, to your little peabrain--”

“I’m trying to help you--”   
  
“I don’t want your help! I can make my own decisions!”

“Agh!” Avi’s hands were at his temples. “I just want you to be safe, y’know? This is really, really weird, man. And I don’t want that shit to happen to you.”

“What shit?”

Avi sighed. “Forgot you’re new. Uh, a kid in high school last year? Went for some football player’s off-again on-again girlfriend, and got humiliated so bad he almost, like, offed himself. Had to go to rehab for like a year,” he said.

“I’m not gonna do that shit,” yawned Five. “They can’t hurt me. I’ve been through way worse than that.”

“Probably what he thought,” muttered Avi. Five made an exasperated noise and stormed out of the bathroom. 

At lunch he met Robin in the alleyway. 

“Hey,” said Robin, bending for a kiss. Five gave it, then stood, uncomfortable. 

“I think you overreacted yesterday,” he said, fidgeting with his hands behind his back. Robin frowned.

“Overreacted with what?”

“I had a family thing on Thursday, and I wasn’t sure if I could get out of it. I wasn’t blowing you off,” said Five, treading gently.

“Yeah, sorry babe,” said Robin, reaching for Five’s waist to pull him closer.

“I just think you could wait for me to explain things before jumping to conclusions?” This was a bit muffled, as his face was shoved into Robin’s chest.

“Mhm, sure,” mumbled Robin. “You know, no one really comes out here. We could do whatever we want.”   


“Yeah, okay,” said Five, twisting himself out of Robin’s arms. “But I actually might have to go--”   
  
“Why? There’s twenty minutes left.” 

“Okay, what do you want?” Five was a little irritated, now. He wanted to get back to his table and talk to Avi. 

“Twenty minutes is more than enough time, you know, for a quickie,” grinned Robin, hand soft on the side of Five’s face.

“Uh, no, we can’t do that.” 

“Well--you could just, y’know, suck it or something.”

“What?”   


“You love me, babe? Suck my dick, come on.”

“I don’t--I don’t want to,” said Five, confused.

“All my teammates’ girlfriends do it, all the time,” whined Robin, brow furrowed.

“I’m not your girlfriend.”

“Close enough,” Robin drawled. “You’re already letting me in your pants on Thursday, it’s literally the same thing.”

“Why don’t you just get a girlfriend if that’s what you want?” said Five. Now he was angry, and a little upset.  _ If you don’t do it and he leaves, Avi will be right,  _ a voice echoed in his head. It wasn’t Dolores.  _ That means Robin really doesn’t like you.  _

“Because I don’t want a girlfriend. I want you.” His finger traced the bump on Five’s nose ridge. “You ever thought about getting a nose job? You know, when you’re old enough?” 

“I never thought about that,” said Five, quietly.

“Decided? You love me or not?” Robin’s eyes were stone cold. Five fidgeted.

“Sure. I’ll do it.” It was barely audible.

“What was that?”   
  
“I’ll do it,” he repeated, louder. “Uh--are you sure no one comes back here?”

“Sure as hell,” Robin replied, smile big. “Knees.”

In the end, it was just really uncomfortable. Maybe in a different context, Five would have been okay with it, but his knees were bruising and he didn’t really know how and Robin kept yanking his hair and groaning so loud Five was sure someone would catch them. Later, when he thought of it, the memory would come up a bit blurry. Detached. At the end of it Robin pulled his hair so hard it made his eyes water and spilled sticky salt all over his face--it got in his hair--but Five just remembered being glad that it was over. 

He knelt, wiping off his face, as Robin buttoned his pants and bent down for a last kiss. “I’ll pick you up at like nine, on Thursday,” he said, and walked away humming. Five leaned back onto his heels. 

When Robin was completely gone, he jumped into the back hall bathroom, thanking the lord when it was empty. Washing the stuff off his face was easy, but it wouldn’t come out of his hair for a while. He tore paper towels and ran water without thinking, and at the end his hair just stuck to his forehead, wet. 

Five was suddenly sure everyone would know what had happened, and he stumbled into a stall and locked the door. 

An hour passed. He just sat, face in his knees, in the corner, until someone knocked at his stall door.

“Someone’s in here,” he called, voice cracking.

“That you, Number?” Avi. Five didn’t answer. “I’m coming in.” 

Five vaguely wondered how he would get in; the door was locked, but Avi dropped to the floor and scooted under it, grunting. Five gave a small laugh, despite himself.

“What happened? You didn’t show at lunch and then you didn’t show for fifth period again. I got a pass; yearbook,” said Avi, holding up a wooden stick. “Had a feeling you’d be here.”

“Nothing happened,” said Five, and then burst into tears. 

“Oh, shit,” said Avi. Eyes wide, he scooted closer, not knowing what to do, and Five fell on his shoulder. “Do you wanna tell me?”   
  
Ten minutes passed. Five’s tears eventually slowed, and he pushed himself upright, forcefully wiping tears and sniffing. “You were right,” he hiccuped. 

“Knew it. Wait, about what?”

“I don’t think Robin actually likes me.”

“Did he do something?”

“He just--he keeps comparing me to the football players’ girlfriends. And making me do stuff they do. I want to stop,” said Five. “I don’t even know how this happened.”

“It’s okay, hold on,” said Avi, tearing off toilet paper for Five to dry his face with. “You just have to break it off.”

“I don’t have my phone, but he’s driving me to his house on Thursday, what about then?”

“I feel like that is a very bad idea,” said Avi.

“I can’t do it any other time. If I do it after, I'll have to sleep with him,” said Five.

“You don’t have to do anything. Just back out of Thursday.”

“I can’t. He’ll get mad.”

“Why is that so bad? You’re breaking it off with him, whatever was going on. He’s gonna be mad anyway.”   
  
“But he’s already got a thing about me blowing him off--I have to do it on Thursday, Avi.”

“Can you get your phone back by then? Because if you really are, like, hard-set on breaking up with the mean, borderline-abusive football player alone at his house, I’d like to have a way for you to call me. Or the police.”

“He can’t hurt me.” Five frowned.

“I don’t know. You look pretty hurt.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi this one was a doozy I know if you're holding out for robin to get absolutely BODIED why don't you hold out a bit more <3 
> 
> tell me what you think!! if you comment please know you make my day I love receiving validation bc it tells me I made peoples day better and I CRAVE that im literally in school for funky storytelling


	7. the break-up

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> not me setting up AP English analysis questions about the themes of this fic in my comment replies <3
> 
> things have a long way to go. and robin is a very smart asshole.
> 
> five does have a manic episode in this one. remember to take your medication guys

He ended up sneaking the phone from Vanya’s drawer when she wasn’t looking, and couldn’t think of a way to explain where he was going, so he just snuck down the fire escape. Robin was waiting down the block in his Tesla. Five steeled himself and got in.

The whole ride there was music playing, so Five didn’t have to talk--he thought that maybe he was putting this off. No, he was definitely putting it off, he thought, but remained silent all the way to the house. Robin’s house was pretty big--nothing too amazing, the Hargreeves mansion was bigger, but it looked pretty standard. And it was empty, as promised. 

“You eat today?” Robin was halfway up the stairs; he beckoned for Five to follow.

“No.” This was true. He’d been so nervous he hadn’t been able to. Robin smiled, all shark teeth, and Five followed him mindlessly up the stairs.

At the door to Robin’s room--real bland, with blue sheets and wood floors and gray walls--he stopped. Robin sat on the bed, smiling and licking his teeth.

“Robin, I want to break up,” said Five, thinking to get it over with. Robin’s gaze darkened. He rose.

“I don’t think you do.”

“I’m quite sure.”

In a swift, singular movement, Robin reached down, lifted Five up, and tossed him on the bed.    
“You’re just having second thoughts. They said that was normal.”

“I’m serious,” Five hissed, trying to shove Robin off of him. “Let me up right now.”

“So you just suck me off, let me drive you all the way over here, and fucking break up with me? They wouldn’t let that happen.”

“Who the hell is ‘ _ they _ ’?” 

“You know what I fucking sacrificed for you? My teammates think you’re a  _ girl _ .”

“Get off me,” said Five, quietly. Robin stood, quickly, grabbed a lamp from the bedside table, and hurled it into the wall with a scream. Five flinched. 

“You know what I fucking did for you?! Ungrateful bitch! Fucking hell!” Robin yelled and sent a stack of books flying. Five slid off the bed as quietly as possible and crawled underneath it. Robin kept screaming and throwing things for what seemed like a very long time--at the end of it Five lay where he hid, eyes closed, hands over his ears, still as he could. Robin found him anyway. 

“Get out of there, brat,” he seethed, hand around Five’s ankle, dragging him out. Five let himself be dragged; his head wasn’t there. He was watching himself, outside of his body, emotion out of the equation, calculating his next move. Robin was red-faced and panting, tired from destroying his room, and Five watched, waiting. 

When Robin pinned his hands down and forced his legs open, Five clicked into autopilot.

Legs up, around Robin’s neck, wrench to the side, left hand free. Flip over, pin Robin’s left arm, keep his right arm pinned with a foot. Right hand around his neck, and squeeze. Five stayed like that for twenty seconds and counting, until Robin passed out, and then he stood and looked around the room. 

It was pretty bad. There was a hole in the drywall from where the lamp had hit it, and there were two broken tables and a wrecked desk. Five grimaced. Had he been slower, or less skilled, he probably would have met the same fate.

The compartmentalization skills he’d learned years ago were kicking in, and he already felt bored with the scene. Robin would wake up soon. He should probably beat it; in one-on-one combat Five would really have to work to make up for lack of his powers. He couldn’t jump in front of Robin. 

He’d have to walk home. He was too drained to jump anyway.

On the way back, he noticed his hands were shaking, and wondered why. 

_ Ding. _

Five stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. Had Robin followed him? Was he going to catch him off guard? Caught off guard, Five was almost helpless. No powers, either, still no jumping, and he crashed back into his body at fifty miles an hour and was suddenly terrified. 

The phone went into the nearest trash can, and Five ran as fast as he could, panicking, panicking, panicking--

His house loomed, threatening as always, in the middle of the next city block. Five skidded up to it, out of breath, pounding on the door, sure Robin was behind him--

The door swung open and he lurched inside, panting. Avi caught him, eyes big. Five looked up.

“Why--are--you--here?” he wheezed. Avi’s brow furrowed.

“I got worried. And I called your phone, but you didn’t answer, so I came here to see if you were okay. Your sister said she couldn’t find you.”

Right on cue, Vanya skidded around the corner and snatched Five away, crushing him in an awkward hug.

“Where were you?” she said, sadly. Five took a breath.

“Nowhere. I’ll pay for the phone,” Five said, flustered. “Avi’s staying the night.” Avi started, confused, but Five looked over at him pleadingly, and he nodded.

“Yeah. Yes, I am.” 

Five gave a slight nod, a  _ thank you.  _ Avi blinked, and floated to the bottom of the staircase, waiting for him. 

“You need to tell me what happened, later,” Vanya whispered, concern painted all over her. She hugged him one last time, drew back, took in his rumpled clothes and missing shoe  _ (when had that happened?)  _ and frowned before letting him go. Five fled up the stairs without missing a beat; Avi followed. She watched them go.

“Pay for the phone?” she muttered.

\--------------

Five shut and locked his door. Avi blinked. “Why did you do that?”   


“Siblings have been getting on me. They seem to have forgotten privacy exists,” spat Five. Avi held out his hands,  _ calm down,  _ and drew him over to sit on the bed.

“Did you do it? What happened? You look bad,” he said. “If he did anything to you we probably should go to the hospital because they’ll always believe a popular jock like him over anybody else and I think evidence can’t be, like, used after a certain amount of time--”   
  
“Relax!” Avi’s hands had been flailing nervously; Five caught them steady. “He didn’t do that. Well, I think he tried, but I got out. I told you. He can’t hurt me. Slow on his right side after all.”

“Oh my god.” Avi’s eyes were wide. “He’s so  _ gross. _ ” Five nodded. “But you broke up with him, right? Or--ended whatever that was?”

“Of course. I’m not stupid, he just got angry.” Five felt cold. “So it’s over. It’s over.”

Avi’s eyes were in his lap.

“It’s over, right. Why wouldn’t it be over?” Five searched his face, brow creased in worry. “There’s no way it’s not over.”

“Do you have an Instagram?”

Five shook his head. 

“That’s probably for the best, then,” said Avi. “Probably for the best. Hey, tomorrow, keep your head down, okay?”

Five scoffed. He was about to give a passive-aggressive retort about how there wasn’t anything anyone there could really do to him, but before he could, the world tilted and he folded in two.

“Whoa, dude, you okay? Five?” Avi bent to see Five’s face, worried. 

Five clutched his head. There was a scream beginning to echo; it was Delores, and it was debilitating. There were barely any words, and a cacophony of other voices were bubbling behind it. Five pressed his hands to his ears, nearly crying when it didn’t help. Avi, next to him, went frantic, babbling and asking how he could help. One of his sentence fragments got through to Five, who exerted tremendous effort to wave a hand at his backpack and hiss “ _ Pills. _ ”

Avi was gone in a second, rummaging through the bag and bringing back the three bottles in record time. Five vaguely wondered why anybody had a rescue dog when rescue people were certainly more convenient, and pawed at the bottles, hands shaking. He managed to get one open; but the conversations in his head grew, and he spilled the pills all over the bed. 

It was too much; he dropped the empty bottle and brought his useless hands back up to his ears. A door opened somewhere in the room, and years passed before faceless figures rushed in and gathered him up like a ball of string. He was maneuvered into a reclining position, and someone held his hands in place. They had been moving quite a bit. There was hushed talking, soothing words, and someone eased pills and water into his mouth. When this happened, the screeching quieted a bit, and Five realized, foggily, that one of the voices had been his. 

_ WHO THE HELL IS TOUCHING YOU?  _ screeched Delores, and Five fell frantic again. He thrashed, trying to get his hands free from whoever had them in their grip, and when that didn’t work, he threw his head against the headboard of the bed. Again, and again, and again, and it met soft flesh once; someone had placed their hand behind his head to keep him from hurting himself. He screamed, restricted, and thrashed again, legs kicking wherever and whoever he could. More hands pinned him in response, and now he was hyperventilating.

He was everywhere and nowhere at once. The world was spinning, and Five felt sure he needed to move to Spain and forget all of this. So he said it, and screamed it, that he hated his family, that he wanted to leave--begged the largest figure near him, who looked like Diego, to take him away somewhere else. He couldn’t  _ do  _ this again, Five screamed, couldn’t live here where everyone hated him, couldn’t bear the duties of being as smart as he was, wanted to run away, wanted to die--over and over and over--until something popped in his head and he fell silent.

Diego, for that was in fact who was next to him, slowly removed his hands from where he was pinning Five’s arms. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, turning to Allison and Vanya next to him. “Since when did this happen?”

“I think I want to bake a cake,” said Five from the bed. Vanya stroked his hair.

Diego’s fingers pressed the bridge of his nose. “We can’t leave him alone,” he said. Allison nodded, wide-eyed. They turned to Vanya, who looked like she was about to cry. 

“Vanya, can you stay with him,” asked Allison tiredly. Diego began to silently clean up the spilled pills. Vanya nodded. Five turned to her, eyes wide open, and bit her shoulder.

“Ow! Why did you do that?” Vanya tried to keep her voice calm and smooth, but it cracked.

“I thought you were jelly and I had to make sure,” said Five, pupils darting around the room. He sat up, jerking to the side and wrenching his head around to stare at nothing. “I think I could write a book if I tried.” His voice was confused, airy.

“What is wrong with him?” Diego gaped. “This is so not normal.” 

“We just wait for the pills to work,” said Allison. “There’s really nothing else we can do.” She whipped around, realizing something. “Remember how Klaus used to have these episodes when he got into--all the worst stuff?”

“Yes,” said Vanya. Diego nodded. Klaus had started doing cocaine at around sixteen; they’d all seen the adverse effects. 

“And that one time he spent six hours missing from training, and when we finally found him, he’d reorganized everyone’s rooms and was just--talking about nothing?”

They nodded.

“Drugs can trigger manic episodes,” said Allison. She sighed. “So can trauma, if I remember right. And Five probably just forgot to take his meds today. I think if he keeps taking them he’ll probably sleep it off.”

“If it gets worse, I want to take him to a hospital,” said Vanya.

“Why? We have Mom here,” scoffed Diego.

“A hospital,” said Vanya again, teeth bared. Diego nodded.

“I can stay with him, if you want,” a small voice offered from the door. The siblings (with the exception of Five, who aimlessly searched the ceiling) turned, surprised. 

Avi stood timidly. “Uh, I can--my sister’s got bipolar. So I can help. And watch him. If you guys have stuff you need to do.”

“You don’t--” Allison stared. “You--do you recognize us?”

Avi cocked his head. “I mean, you’re his sister,” he said, pointing to Vanya. “And you guys are family. Probably. It’s not really my business, but you kinda look like that one actress,” he said, nodding at Allison. “Which is pretty cool. I bet people stop you on the street all the time. Um. Off topic. I can stay.”

“Well, can you--you can call your parents, or--?” Allison blinked.

“Yeah.” Avi waved his phone, gap-toothed smile shining. The siblings gave each other looks and filtered out of the room, Vanya the last. 

Avi closed the door and made his way slowly to the bed. “You okay?” he asked. Five whipped to look at him and frowned. 

“Why the fuck would you ask that?” he snapped, eyes darting around the room, and then he slid off the bed and began rearranging the books on his desk. 

“Do you want help with that?” asked Avi. “Nod or shake; you don’t have to answer.” Five paused, and nodded. Avi walked over. “How are you fixing them?”

“It’s either right or wrong,” said Five, blinking. “Alphabetical is wrong.” Avi nodded, as if this made complete sense, and picked up a book. Five shook his head rapidly until Avi got to the right spot, then nodded. They continued in this fashion, though it was slower than Five just doing it on his own, until every book was reordered. Five stood back, satisfied, then immediately forgot about it and turned to his bed, scowling. 

“What do you want me to do?” asked Avi. 

“Stop  _ talking  _ to me,” moaned Five, dragging his hands down his face. “You’re annoying! And loud! I wish you would just shut--up--I  _ do,  _ I wish you would be quiet for once in your goddamn life and leave me alone forever! You have the  _ worst  _ advice! You don’t even own this block! I do! I think I’m so smart I have to!”

“It’s a good thing you don’t have your phone,” mumbled Avi, and walked over to guide Five back to sitting on the bed. 

“You know, you got me into every bad situation,” blathered Five, eyebrows up like he was stating a cool fact. “Everything is your fault, I think.”

“Is it?” said Avi, reading the side of a medication bottle.

“Yes. If you think about it, literally everything leads back to you, because that’s just how it works, and it can’t be my fault. I’m too smart for that.”

“That’s nice. You’re right,” said Avi. “It’s dark. I think you should go to bed.” He stood, pulling off Five’s one remaining shoe and working him into the bed. Five talked the whole time.

“It’s really upsetting how I always have to deal with stupid people. And no offense, even though you are one of them, but literally my whole life no one ever understood how much better I was. And I ran away, which showed them. Maybe I should do it again. I want to run away,” said Five, yawning.

“Okay, meds are working,” mumbled Avi. “You can tell me about that tomorrow.” 

\-------------

Seven o’ clock and Five’s head hurt.

It was an alarm that woke him, and he sat up, grimacing and rubbing his head. Babbling phrases began to crash in like water through a broken dam, and looking for something to focus on, he found a bright yellow sticky note. Squinting through his grogginess, he picked it up. It was attached to a prescription bottle.

_ In the shower. Take your meds, _ it read. Five blinked; that was nice. Two pills. He grimaced, thinking about swallowing them dry, but then noticed a glass of water on the table. Another sticky note.  _ Took me almost an hour to find the kitchen. Better be grateful, Number.  _ Down the hatch, then.

He was wearing crumpled clothes from yesterday, and so got out of the bed to change. He still felt-- _ swing-y  _ was perhaps the best word to describe it. Volatile. Like anything could set him off; he was at the edge of a cliff and teetering. 

As he buttoned a new shirt, he noticed a bag in the corner. It hadn’t been there yesterday. He cocked his head, agitation building up, wondering why it was where it shouldn’t be--

“Hey,” said a calm voice from the door, speaking slowly. “Good that you’re awake. School is gonna be very loud and overwhelming; do you think you can handle it?”

Five looked at Avi, dripping and freshly-clothed by the door. 

“Where did the bag come from?”

“I called my mom to bring it over,” he answered patiently. “Do you think you can go to school?”

“Can you move the bag?” Five was sure there were people in his room--he could almost see them. He kept changing the direction of his gaze, to catch them, but nobody was ever there.

Avi furrowed his brow, then stepped forward, catching Five’s twitching hands. “What’s going on right now? What’s happening?”

Five took a breath. “I don’t want the bag there. I really don’t. And I think that people are watching me--I don’t know who they are--” He took a breath. The Commission. “They’re coming back to make me kill for them, Avi, and I don’t want to do that! They can’t find me if I run. They can’t find me if I run.” He wrenched his hands out of Avi’s grip and ran to the dresser, searching for clothes. Avi walked over and patiently stopped him.

“You’re manic, Five. Hey, Quincy. Quincy. The bag is fine and nobody’s coming to get you. I promise.” 

Five whimpered and began to bite his lip.

“I really don’t think you should go to school if we can’t get you down from this,” Avi muttered. Concern written all over his face, he pushed Five down to lie on the bed and stepped back. “You need to eat.”

Five groaned and smacked his forehead a few times, face contorted. “I can go to school. And I don’t want to eat!”

“You need to,” said Avi. “Then we can talk about something you want. Okay? There you go.” He guided Five off the bed and out of the room. 

\----------

One hour later. Five sat, staring at an empty plate. It had taken him so much focus to tell Avi he wanted peanut butter, and in the end he’d only said  _ butter  _ but Avi had understood and made him a sandwich just like the ones he ate at lunch every day. Five felt better. Calm; a little further from the edge. 

“How are you feeling?” Avi swiped the plate from under his nose to lob into the sink. “Calm?”

“Calm,” said Five. “Thank you.”

Avi grinned and washed the plate.

“Why did you stay?”

“Hm?”   


“How did you deal with me? Most people couldn’t. You could easily have just left. My sister was here.”

“My sister’s got bipolar, remember? She’s in high school. My whole family had to learn what to do when she had a manic episode.” Avi smiled. “Wondered why you never told me what those pills were for.”

“I’m not bipolar,” said Five.

“Yeah, well, you also told me you weren’t gay, and now look what we’re dealing with.” Avi snickered. “Seriously, though, you need to get that checked out. You seem manic-depressive. What are the pills for, then?” 

Five took a breath. “Narcissistic personality disorder, intermittent explosive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, anxiety--I’m missing one, hold on.” He ticked them off on his fingertips again. “No, that’s all of them. I’ve never been diagnosed bipolar.”

Avi stared at him, openmouthed. “Well, that--that could also explain it. Shit ton of mood stabilizers.” 

They stared at each other before bursting into laughter.

\--------------

Avi and Five rode to school together. Vanya, having been informed of the fact that Five’s phone was in a trash compactor somewhere, lent him hers for the day and spent the whole car ride reminding Avi to check in with her if anything went wrong. Five just stared out the window. He had a bad feeling.

Avi clapped him on the back when they walked up to the doors. “Keep your head down,” he murmured. 

Five didn’t listen. His senses went on high alert--a girl saw him and whispered. Another burst into laughter with her friend group.  _ It can’t be directed at me,  _ he reassured himself, but someone pulled on his backpack and called him a hoe, and now he knew it was. 

“Just keep going,” muttered Avi, and they walked faster. 

First period they had to part ways. Five took his seat, remembered Robin would be next to him, and prepared for conflict.

But Robin swaggered in with a group of loyal boys behind him, and they all ignored Five and sat down. Five deflated, relieved, until ten minutes later when one of Robin’s lackeys threw a crumpled up piece of paper at him. He opened it, bored, and his stomach fell. 

All the pictures he’d sent to Robin. Printed out, drawn on.  _ Boys can be sluts too!  _ read the back of the paper, emblazoned with makeup coupons and cut-out lingerie ads. Five’s breathing sped up. He looked around the classroom, frantically crumpling up the paper. Swiveling to look back, he saw Robin smirk, feet up on the desk. 

“Can I use the bathroom?” Robin’s hand was up. The teacher nodded, and he loped past Five’s desk, dropping his phone as he did. When he bent to pick it up, he whispered in Five’s ear. 

“Surprises all day today, whore.”

After first period Five nearly jumped outside the classroom, he was so nervous, but stopped himself in the middle of it and settled for a humiliating run. Class had barely been dismissed; the halls were filling--Five swiveled, running for the bulletin boards, hoping--no, his hopes were dashed, for plastered all over the walls was the same set of pictures. Not the tame ones; the bad ones, censored with Sharpie like a bad off-brand  _ Playboy.  _ Five ripped them off the bulletin board; it was too late, he was surrounded by laughing kids.

Bullets. 

He sank to the floor, head in his knees, crumpled pictures in his hands, mind racing. Kids in the crowd called him names and clicked cameras; and to Five it was a different day--a day where he didn’t know Robin, he felt like himself, he was still attached to who he was before--a day where the bell had rung and he’d fallen under the desk and been attacked the same way. It blurred, but it didn’t tilt like it had the day before--Five’s medication kept him firmly anchored to the ground.

The crowd quieted a little, and Five raised his head. They were still, regrettably, there, but had gone silent as a teacher approached. He recognized her. Seventh and eighth grade counselor, from his first day. She knelt beside him. 

“Hon, you wanna come with me?” She pried the pictures out of his hands and bade him stand. Five stood, and followed her through the crowd. They parted, watching him with big fishbowl eyes. 

\--------------

The counselor’s office was plastered in paintings of boring landscapes and dusty bowls of candy. Five felt uncomfortable; it was like the Handler’s office. He reached for a bowl of candy, remembered the last time he’d done that, and withdrew his hand.

“I thought we should talk,” said the counselor.

“Why is that?” said Five, playing dumb. Maybe she hadn’t seen the pictures.

But the counselor reached to her side and pulled out a stack. Each one was graffitied with worse slurs than the one before; Five wondered how long it had taken Robin and his cronies. Maybe they’d had a craft night. He grimaced.

“I understand,” said Five. “What will the penalty be?”

“For you?”

“For Robin,” said Five, wondering what she meant. 

“Quincy, Robin Briggs came into our office this morning to report you,” said the counselor, brows furrowed. Five paled.

“What?”

“He was very distraught. He explained to us how you’d been harassing him, sending him inappropriate photos, even after being repeatedly asked to stop. Is this true?”

Five sat, mouth open. “Of course not! He took me to a football game--”

“Mr. Briggs said he thought to make friends with you, since you were new. Of course, he couldn’t have imagined what would happen next,” said the counselor, tone condescending in that way only adults can have when they’re disciplining a child. 

Five was angry now. “Do you see those pictures?! That’s--I’m  _ clearly  _ the victim here!”

“Calm down, Quincy. I checked your file. You’re medicated for a lot of disordered tendencies, correct?”

  
Five nodded, suddenly understanding where this was going.

“Strange,” she muttered. “With all of this--you should have been on a plan. Anyway, at the behest of the school, I’m going to recommend you some programs that can help you, all right?”

“You’re trying to send me to rehab,” said Five, fuming. The counselor only smiled condescendingly.

“They’re just programs, honey. Several students have gone through them before, and they’ve helped tremendously.” 

Just then, a knock at the door. “Come in,” the counselor called. Vanya opened the door and rushed to sit.

“I’m so sorry I’m late,” she said, out of breath. “A lesson ran long.”

“Thank you, Ms. Hargread,” said the counselor brightly. “In addition to what we spoke about over the phone--”

“You spoke over the  _ phone? _ ” seethed Five. 

“I will tell you that the Briggs household has gotten back with me, and they do not intend to press charges, provided Quincy receives psychological treatment.”

“You have got to be kidding me,” gasped Five. “Psychological  _ treatment?  _ This is  _ bullshit! _ ” 

“Five, calm down,” hissed Vanya, stone-faced.

“But I have  _ texts, _ ” moaned Five. “And they prove this isn’t true--see--” He reached into his pocket for his phone. It wasn’t there. He blanched. “No--hold on--”

“You threw it away, remember?” mumbled Vanya, pressing the bridge of her nose. “During that manic episode.”

The counselor’s lips disappeared into a line, and Five slowly took his hand from his pocket. “Right,” he said. Now a last resort. “But then--how did that happen?” He waved his hand at the stack of photos on the desk. Vanya’s brow furrowed, and she reached for one. When she saw it, she clapped her hand to her mouth and thrust it back at the counselor. Five winced. 

“Mr. Briggs explained that he was so distraught by the photos, he left his phone unlocked in the locker room. He’s incredibly apologetic; it’s part of why the family is not pressing charges.”

“We understand. Thank you. Could I get some of those pamphlets?” asked Vanya, pointing to a stack of them on the shelf behind the counselor.  _ Therapy is not a Crime!  _ read the top one. Five shrank in his chair.

\-----------------

Vanya herded Five out of the office and the school, to her car.

“Why is Robin being believed without any kind of investigation?” Five barked, anger spiking. “I have just as much evidence as he does, it’s  _ even,  _ it’s he-said she-said now--”

Vanya whirled, snapping. “How did you get involved in this? You! One of the smartest, most mature people I know! For christ’s sake, you’re older than me! God!” She rubbed her temples. “This family is a nightmare.”

Five fidgeted. He felt a little bad now; he hated making Vanya upset. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to inconvenience you.”

“It’s not me, Five,” she said, giving a strained laugh. “I’m worried about you. You have only been around people nearly a month and already somebody is threatening to press charges. Jesus, Five, how will you get through the rest of this?” She waved in the direction of the school. “I don’t know if I can trust you.”   


Five flinched. That hurt. “You can trust me to protect you,” he said.

“I can protect myself now.” She glared at him. 

“And it’s not my fault. I thought he liked me,” said Five. “I don’t--” He clenched his jaw. This would hurt his ego. “I’m not good at this.”

Vanya breathed out through her nose. “You’re not going to rehab. I know Robin’s the asshole here; don’t worry, but you have got to go to counseling, at least.”

Five nodded, hands in his pockets and staring at the ground.

“Do you want to go home for the rest of the day?”

“I’ll stay,” said Five. He didn’t want to; he dreaded going back into the school, but he felt like spending another second with Vanya’s disappointed face would be worse. So he stayed, and waved as Vanya’s car pulled away.

He was late to third period. He’d already missed second. As he walked in, the classroom went silent. 

His biology teacher, Mr. Nash, spoke up. “You’re late.”

“Sorry,” muttered Five, shoving a crumpled pass at him. Mr. Nash took it with a side glance; Five stood awkwardly at the front of the class until he was waved to his seat.

Shit. 

Cindy Briggs watched him sit next to her with a grimace. She whispered something to her friend on the other side, who snickered and gave Five a dirty look. Five stared at his desk. Somehow, this revelation was worse than what he’d experienced before; Cindy might hate him. Cindy, that beautiful girl, probably hated him. Five bit his lip and tried to listen to the teacher.

That goal quickly proved futile; Cindy asked to use the bathroom and Five could think of nothing but convincing her he wasn’t a slut.

So he shot his hand up after twenty seconds, and almost knocked over his chair getting out of the classroom.

“Cindy! Cindy, wait up!” He jogged to catch up with her. She turned, saw him, and hurried faster.  _ Shit.  _ “Cindy, I want to talk to you--”

She whirled around. “I don’t want to talk to you,” she snapped. “I thought you were weird but this is  _ sick. _ ”

“I didn’t--he spread rumors! Just give me a second to explain,” panted Five, catching up. “Things got out of hand, I know--”

“My brother’s almost quit the football team because of you,” said Cindy. “They all made fun of him so much when he brought you to that game. He didn’t even mean anything by it.” She crossed her arms, glaring at him. “And I thought you liked me. You just used me to get to Robin? That is so disgusting.”

Five took a breath; he didn’t know where to even begin. “Cindy, please check Robin’s texts,” he said. “I don’t have them on my phone, but if he still has the picture, they’re still on his. He asked for the pictures, Cindy. If you check his texts--come on,” he pleaded, softly.

“I trust my brother,” she said, looking down her nose at him (she, like Robin, was tall for her age). “If you showed me these texts, yeah, I’d look, but I’m not gonna go searching through his phone. He’s been through enough.”

“Listen, I get it, he’s your brother and you love him, but please--if you said something it could help me get out of this--”   


“You put yourself there! I wanted to ask you to the winter dance!”

Five blinked. He’d never actually thought he had a chance with Cindy. “Huh?”

“I know everybody here already. You were new and cute and you actually liked me, so yeah, I wanted to go with you.” She scowled. “But you  _ ruined  _ it because I can’t ever have anything nice!”

Five was in bargaining mode now. “Come on, Cindy, for old times’ sake, please help me. If I’m right, okay--if Robin is lying and I’m right--we can still go!”

“Why would I go to the dance with a gay guy?”   
  
“I told you he’s lying,” pleaded Five.

“Whether he’s lying or not you still sent those pictures. And that means you like Robin. Which means you don’t like me,” stated Cindy.

“I like both of you,” said Five, abandoning his cool demeanor. Cindy’s brow furrowed.

“You can’t.”

“Yes, I can.”

Cindy gritted her teeth. “No. You can’t.”

“Why are you trying to tell me who I like?” Five’s arms were crossed; he looked angry. “I’m not gay. I just like people.”

“You’re not  _ straight  _ if you sent that stuff,” Cindy said.

“No, I’m not,” said Five. “I don’t know what else to tell you. But I do like you. I promise.”

“Then why’d you abandon me for my brother?” She genuinely looked hurt, and Five could suddenly tell that something like this had happened before.

He had several options here. He could lead into his request again, he could pivot the conversation and just compliment her until she forgot, he could make up one of a hundred lies--

Better to just be truthful.

“He was mean to me,” said Five. “Condescending. And stuff. That’s--it reminded me of someone.” He shivered, remembering her gloves, her corsets. “I don’t know; I think it was familiar.”

“So you picked him because he was mean to you?” Doubtful, confused. 

“In a sense? Yes,” said Five. “And he knew that, I think, and he took advantage of it, and now I’m stuck and please, Cindy, I need your help.” And something in his tone must have sounded sincere, because Cindy’s gaze softened and she stepped forward. 

“Robin’s going to a house party after the game tonight,” she said. “I’m not allowed to go with him but I know he gets careless. Leaves stuff around. He’s messy.”

Five leaned forwards ever so slightly; she had gotten quieter as she spoke.

“If you--if you went, maybe you could get the phone. And then you can show me the texts.”   
  
“Can’t you just--”   
  
“I’m not stealing my brother’s phone.” Her gaze was hard as stone; Five would not win this argument. 

“Right. House party. Where?”

Cindy pulled a notebook from her purse--one of the little moleskin ones Five had gifted her forever ago--and tore a page from the back, writing an address on it and shoving it at him.

“You wrote in the notebook,” said Five, noticing the worn pages.

“I told you. I  _ liked  _ you.” She turned and was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wee woo WEE WOO FIVE DID NOT FUCK THE HANDLER!!!!! I REPEAT: NUMBER FIVE HAS NEVER HAD RELATIONS WITH THE HANDLER!!!! she is CREEPY!!!!!! TO HIM!! BUT THE VIBES WERE THERE (AWFUL P*DO VIBES) AND I WILL NOT DENY THAT!!
> 
> comment and you will get a nice bagel delivered to you sometime during the rest of your life!! also I will be grateful <3.


	8. if you've seen euphoria

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> five goes to a high school party uh oh uh oh
> 
> disclaimer and slight slight tw: there is a bit of dubious consent in this one. not too bad if you've ever seen euphoria this pales in comparison
> 
> ALSO I FIGURED OUT WHY FIVE IS SO UPSET AT HIS TINY YOUNG BODY IN THE SHOW!!!! it is framed as an arrogance thing which it is but it is also that he knows he has twice the life to live now. his entire life goal is to save his siblings and after that is done, instead of retiring as a 70 year old man, he has to go through adulthood AGAIN and figure it out and find new aspirations and find new things to love other than his siblings which must be destroying him

Avi and Five hid in the bathroom during lunch; Five told him the plan.

“As your resident voice of reason,” said Avi, “I’m going to volunteer to do this for you.”

Five scowled. He was used to being the reasonable one. “Have you ever even been to a party?”

“Have you?”

Five rolled his eyes. “I’ve certainly been through  _ worse, _ ” he drawled. “Why do you even want to go?”

“Um, where do I start?” Avi began to tick off his fingers. “Reason one: crowds and flashing lights. Bad combo for you. Reason two: you will be in close proximity to Robin! Bad! Reason three: lots of high school football players who think you’re a slut and will be drunk. I have pirated enough HBO to know that is a  _ terrible  _ combo for anybody, much less a scrawny five-foot-three boy who’s never played a sport in his  _ life--” _

“I have had  _ extensive  _ martial arts training!” objected Five.

“Yeah, but unless you can teleport or something, you can’t deal with that many dudes, Five.”

“Definitely can’t teleport,” said Five, staring at the ceiling. Avi leaned against the wall.

“Yeah, so I should go for you,” he said. 

“How will you get the phone?”

“I don’t know, distract him? That’s what the quirky sidekick always does,” said Avi, nudging Five’s shoulder. Five grinned and swayed. 

“So I’m going for you. It’s decided,” said Avi. “And you will be at home with your sister’s phone and wait for me to update you.”

“Yes,” said Five.

“You promise you’ll stay at home and not be stupid?”

“Yes,” lied Five.

\-------------------

Friday night Five stole Vanya’s car. Driving carefully--he couldn’t afford to be stopped--he pulled up at the far curb near the address Cindy had written down. He’d given the paper to Avi, but memorized it first.

The party was already in full swing. Balloons and empty cups littered the lawn, people shouted and sang from inside, and the lights coming from inside the house were a hazy purple. Five stepped up to the door, steeling himself for what would just be another mission. He was here to make sure Avi got the phone from a distance; if he failed, Five would swoop in and do it for him. Couldn’t go wrong. 

The house was packed. Immediately nobody recognized him; he began to feel safe, and looked around, squinting, in the dark glow for Robin. There was a kitchen island; people crowded around it pouring bottles into cups. Five swiped one from the counter and took a swig almost absentmindedly, nodding to the music. Someone pulled him into the crowd and he laughed, drinking from the bottle again, thinking he’d have one more sip and then find Avi.

Half an hour later Five swayed, completely plastered, out of the back door to the house. Here there was a pool, and more people drinking and laughing. Five wobbled across the lawn to vomit in a bush, then swiveled, squinting again across the pool. A group of people watched someone smash an alcohol bottle on the ground and begin to shout; Five’s tilty brain recognized Robin.

Teetering, trashed, Five made his way around the pool (focusing on not falling in much harder than normal) and up to Robin, who turned and saw him.

“Why the fuck are you here?” he seethed, and Five giggled. “Don’t fucking laugh at me!”   


“Why--why did you do that?” slurred Five, all thoughts of the phone and Avi and any inhibitions gone. “You made--you’ve got everyone all mad at me, and I didn’t do anything.”

Robin bent to his level, then straightened up again, suddenly turning and kicking over a stray chair. “You follow me fucking  _ everywhere!  _ Who the--what the fuck is your problem?!” His face was red, and his breath smelled of vodka. 

“I kinda--kindof--I thought you liked me,” pouted Five, and he pivoted too fast, fell on his face, and stumbled up and back into the house.

He walked into four random rooms (surprising a very naked couple in one) before finding a bathroom, and shut the door behind him, sighing when the noise from outside quieted. He wanted to dance, but he also wanted to sleep, and he was contemplating this duality when the door opened and shut again.

Five whirled, meeting Robin’s eyes. “Don’t bother me,” he slurred, trying to make an angry face and failing. Robin caught his waist and kissed him.

It took a couple seconds for Five to gather the coordination necessary to shove Robin off, and when he did, Robin howled and stomped the floor. Five watched him, pouting. “You did-this-to-yourself,” he said, and Robin smacked his forehead.

“Please,” he whined, suddenly so close that Five could feel his breath on his forehead. “I-loveyou.” He buried his face in Five’s neck; Five, hammered, allowed it.

“You spread my pictures,” he mumbled, a last-ditch effort to stop. Robin kissed his neck.

“I wasn’t thinking straight,” he said between kisses. “I’m so sorry. I won’t do it again.” 

This was good enough for Five’s addled mind, and he wrapped his arms around Robin’s neck and brought him back around for a regular kiss. “I love you,” he muttered, thinking nothing of it. Robin hoisted him onto the bathroom counter; Five wrapped his legs around his torso. It was minutes and minutes until there was a loud knock at the bathroom door.

“Go away!” growled Robin; a teenage girl yelled something from outside. Robin yelled back and left Five to throw the door open and scream in her face. A minute later, he seemed to have lost the argument, for he turned back to Five and led him off the counter and out of the room.

“Where are we going?” asked Five, unable to process their direction with the lights and the people and the noise. 

Robin herded him into a room and shut the door behind him. “C’mere,” he said, hoisting Five again and dropping him onto a bed. He fell on top of him, kissing and kissing and kissing every inch of skin he could find, and Five giggled.

“Love you, love you, love you,” Robin murmured, and Five tangled his fingers in his hair. 

“You’re drunk,” said Five, sanity clear for a moment. “I’m drunk.”

“And?” Robin toyed with the bottom of Five’s shirt. “You want to.”

“I’m drunk,” repeated Five, at loss for a better argument. Robin seemed to have no comeback; instead he pulled off his shirt and guided Five’s hands back around his neck.

Five had kissed the Handler, once; when he was older. She sent him on a mission with a briefcase and visited him when he got there, because apparently he’d gone to the wrong hotel. She could have just sent a message through the system, but she didn’t, for she had other motives--motives Five had guessed and been able to spurn. She had wanted one kiss, though; Five thought it cruel to withhold--this had been in the early days, before emotion failed, before he felt bad for no one but himself. So he had let her kiss him once; it lasted a total of six and a half seconds. Five had counted. 

That kiss had been cold and static. It did nothing for him. This, however--whether it was the alcohol or the situation, Five didn’t know, but it was magic. Gold and liquid ambrosia, running through his veins, lifting him higher than anything--he was turned around and now Robin kissed his back; his shirt was gone. 

Magic, again; magic until it was pain and Five shrieked and teleported off the bed, falling in a tangle of sheets.

Robin flailed back, falling. “What the hell!”

Five scrambled back across the floor, sheets clutched close to him, wide-eyed and realizing what he’d done. 

“Where the fuck--did you go--” Robin swiveled, confused look on his face, spotting Five on the floor. “How did you get there?” He scratched his head, slurring.

“What did you do to me,” gasped Five, realizing where he was.

“Nothing you didn’t want,” purred Robin, moving close to him. “Come on, babe. I just startled you.”

“Jesus fuck,” Five muttered. He began looking for his clothes on the floor.

“Babe--no--” Robin grabbed his arms, stopping him from moving. “Please, don’t leave me, I’ll be gentler I promise--” And now he was crying, and Five stopped, wide-eyed and sobering up.

“What’s wrong with you?” And he meant it. “What’s wrong with me?” He meant it too. Why did this keep happening? Robin would do something inexcusable, and yet Five would find a way to excuse it. And he’d go back. And it got worse every time. This was not how he acted, he thought; he was smart and calculating and the only emotions he  _ had  _ were love for his family. That was it. That’s what drove his every action, from the day he ran away to now. 

He suddenly realized that now there was a heavy empty space where his obsessions used to sit, and nothing was going to be able to fix it. When you spend your entire life trying to save someone, what do you do when they don’t need you anymore? 

Robin crushed his lips to Five’s again, and Five took him into his arms. The space was filled, if only for a bit. 

“Let’s try again,” murmured Five, and he let Robin carry him to the bed.

\--------------

Avi was getting bored. Robin was nowhere to be found, and he was beginning to wonder if he’d missed him. He’d settled into a pretty static surveillance position on a couch where he could see most of the doors, and every few minutes he’d look around reflexively for Five to make sure he hadn’t snuck in. It would be a very Five thing to do, actually. 

Bored, he rose off the couch and decided to do a sweep of the house again. Down a corridor; nothing, outside near the pool, nothing, and in the second corridor he stopped and pulled out his phone. Five had given him Vanya’s number, said he’d have her phone all night, so Avi leaned against a door and texted it.

_ Avi: At the party, can’t find Robin _

There was a muffled  _ ding  _ from behind the door. Avi turned, frowning, and then went back to his phone.

_ Avi: Hello? you there? _

Another  _ ding  _ from inside the room. Avi ignored it. He looked at the messages. Five wasn’t answering. That was weird--

Someone called Robin’s name.

Avi perked up, alert, looking around--he didn’t see anything. Another soft  _ Robin.  _ Avi whipped around--then pressed his ear to the door.

_ Robin,  _ sighed a voice from inside, and Avi knew that voice.

Mouth open in disbelief, he knocked loudly. The room went quiet. 

“Who’s there!” called someone from inside. Robin’s voice, unmistakable. Avi teetered on the decision to answer; Robin wouldn’t know him, but Five would. Did he want to do that?

He heard Five whisper something from inside, and anger decided for him. “Avi!” he called. “I left my phone in here.”

Five hissed “Shit!” from inside, and there was rustling for a minute before Robin stumbled to open the door. Just a crack, nothing more, and Avi noted the flush on his face and the fact he was clutching a sheet around his waist in lieu of pants. 

“Maybe I’ll come back later,” he said, loudly, and turned to leave.

\----------

Five peeked up from his hiding place behind the bed as Robin shut the door. “Did he see me?” he panted, eyes wide.

“No,” said Robin, crossing back over to him. Of course, he had no idea what Avi had seen or heard, but he didn’t care. “Come back.” He fell on the bed; Five slid on top of him, straddling, and bent down for a kiss. “You’re not drunk anymore, are you?”

“I metabolize quickly,” muttered Five, and let Robin flip him over.

\----------

Five woke before Robin, only an hour after falling asleep. Sitting up, he blinked and bit his nails--he was sober now. 

There was a haze that often came over him; in the old days it had been when he killed. He’d feel bored, whimsical, while doing it, then remember it later in a newer light and feel terrible about the fact that he didn’t feel anything. Remorse over having no remorse.

The same haze had descended earlier. While an hour and a half ago it had seemed perfectly rational, now Five couldn’t think of a single reason why he had done it. His stomach roiled, and he teleported off the bed and across the room, gathering his clothes. He ached. And Avi had been here, too; what if he had seen Five? Then Five would lose his only friend for sure, and it would be entirely his fault. 

But Avi hadn’t seen him. He was sure of it. He didn’t even try to get the phone, either; probably found it too uncomfortable and chickened out. Five reassured himself this was the case--oh! The phone! Tiptoeing to the side of the bed, he rummaged through Robin’s discarded pants.  _ Score.  _

Slipping the phone into his own pocket, he left as quietly as he came. He thought about leaving a note as he weaved through what was left of the party, because that’s what they did in movies, but Robin didn’t deserve a note. Robin deserved nothing. But Five had gotten something out of the night, at least, because now he knew Robin was vulnerable--now he knew he had Robin in the palm of his hand. A few sips of vodka and Robin wanted him back? He felt triumphant. 

The drive home was quiet and nice. The seats were hard, and every once in a while Five would feel a low sort of hurt again, but he didn’t mind it. He’d been through pain much worse. Absent-mindedly, at a stoplight, he checked Vanya’s phone, heart dropping through his chest when he saw Avi’s messages.

_ Friday 10:38 P.M. _

_ Avi: At the party, can’t find Robin _

_ Avi: Hello? you there? _

_ Saturday 12:03 A.M. _

_ Avi: i left. guess u didn’t really need me to find robin huh _

Shit.

\-----------

Five forgot about following the rules of the road and booked it all the way back to the house. He was quite sure, now, that he had made a mistake of astronomical proportions. Sneaking up the back fire escape and into his room, he shut the door and sat on the bed, calling Avi’s number with an unsteady hand.

Avi didn’t answer the first time, or the second, or the third. That was fair. It was three A.M., after all. Still, Five kept calling, and Avi picked up on the seventh ring, yelling.

“What do you want!”

“I have to talk with you.”   


“Dude, there’s nothing to talk about. You said you were gonna stay home and you didn’t do it. Did you go there to sleep with him?”

“I went to make sure you were able to--”

“Yeah, but that’s not what you did, is it?”

Five went silent. He had never been this clearly in the wrong before; he didn’t know how to deal with it.

“You keep going back to him and it seriously keeps getting worse. We’re doing this so your reputation until the end of high school isn’t those pictures, and we have to get Robin punished if we want to do that!”   
  
“I got his phone,” said Five, at a loss for anything else.

“Look, it’s the middle of the night and I’m not your therapist,” Avi said down the phone line. “I think you should actually  _ get  _ one because whatever you’ve been through is giving you serious issues and I don’t know how to help with that.”

“You help,” said Five, quietly.

“I can help when you have a panic attack because I had to learn about it when I was nine years old!” Avi was yelling now. “I don’t know how to deal with PTSD or any of those other bajillion issues you have, and I’m sick of getting roped into your shit!”

“We did the Cindy thing together--”   
  
“You did  _ everything  _ after that all by yourself and then didn’t even tell me, so by the time I figured it out I was just left to pick up the pieces. I spent my life cleaning up after my sister and now I have to clean up after you?!”

“I...” Five stared at his dresser, phone on speaker in his hand.

“Bye,” snapped Avi, and the line went dead.

\---------

Five knocked for the third time on Klaus’ door; quick, fast raps. It creaked open; Klaus squinted at him.

“What is it, little bro?”   
  
“Not little,” said Five, and swept past him into the room. “I have a problem.”

“Yeah?” Klaus yawned, flopping back onto his bed. “Go on.”

“I slept with Robin. I don’t know why.” Five paced, hands behind his back like he was giving a lecture on mathematics or something. “And I promised my--friend--that I wouldn’t, but I was drunk, and I did it anyway. And I don’t know how Robin will react because I left while he was sleeping.”

“You  _ slept  _ with someone?” Klaus gaped. “That’s unexpected. Hey, kudos on no longer being a sixty-year-old virgin, though.” He grinned. “How was it, dear?”

Five glared. “At least I don’t need sex to  _ survive. _ ”

“You can’t shame me, darling, I am a proud hoe.” He blinked. “Okay, so who is Robin?”

“The boy everyone said was a bad idea.”

“Oh shit. Okay,” said Klaus. “First thing is--no more alcohol.”   
  
“Right.”

“Also--” He grimaced. “Robin is not nice. When was this, Thursday?”

“No, I broke up with him on Thursday, and he tried to hurt me so I knocked him out and left. I slept with him--” He looked up, thinking. “Four hours ago.”

“Oh, damn. C’mere.” Klaus sat up, making room for Five and patting the bed. Five moved closer, slowly, but wouldn’t sit. “I have had five boyfriends who were sketchy enough to make me leave, which says a lot, but I’ve only had two that were straight-up abusive.”

“He’s not abusive,” said Five, offended.

“You just say that because you think you can’t be abused. Anyone can be abused.” Klaus rummaged in the drawer on his bedside table, drew out a long vape pen, and took a drag. “Anyway, I stayed with both these boyfriends way too long--got a broken arm for it once--and it wasn’t ‘cause I was dumb; I was just fresh out of Dad’s loving care and I was looking for a new thing to hurt me.” He shrugged. “Allison threw herself into her work, Luther lied to himself, Diego went off to kill criminals for a living, and you see what happened to Vanya. All of us got messed up.” 

He turned to look right into Five’s eyes, the same shade of green as his. “It’s gonna be real hard to leave this kid. You gotta surround yourself with people who care about you, so you know that he’s not the only option.”

_ Mean people are familiar,  _ Five remembered saying to Cindy.  _ He knew that, I think. _

“All of you are busy now,” said Five. “No one is here who loves me.” It came out small, cracking; the most vulnerable thing he’d ever said. Klaus recognized this and put down the vape pen, reaching out his hand. Five took it. 

“You can’t get that love from Robin,” said Klaus. “I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi the tua actors are packing to go back to Toronto to shoot s3 and that's all that's getting me through life rn 
> 
> pleas comment I know I posted this at the stroke of mid night but I have faith in you guys to comment at me
> 
> tell me what you think >: ) I want to HEAR your THOUGHTS right NOW!


	9. kick down your sandcastles.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short, but sets up a lovely thing for the next couple of chapters to focus on. hope you guys like conversations
> 
> also has anyone else noticed that aidan gallagher (actor: number five) is literally like. he falls into the uncanny valley. something about his face is so goddamn terrifying i. steve blackman said he saw 320 actors for the part before aidan showed up and immediately snatched it. which is, I mean, LOOK at the kid hes perfect for it damn

They sat on the floor of Klaus’ bedroom, playing chess at five A.M. Klaus hadn’t remembered how to play, so Five had to teach him, which took the better part of an hour, but after learning he’d picked up the skill pretty quick. Their scoreboard came out to 9-2. 

“Even winning two games against me is a feat,” said Five. “Well done.” Klaus clapped his hands and laughed with glee.

“So, brother,” said Klaus, setting the board up for another game. “What about that kid who was over? Forgot his name--uh--Diego said he slept over the other day.” He looked up at Five. “Seems to like you a lot.”

“Not anymore,” said Five, radiating the energy of a wearied sailor. “I ruined a lot of things yesterday.” 

“I’m sure he’s just frustrated,” said Klaus. “Hargreeves kids are a lot to deal with.” 

Five laughed quietly. “Yes, that’s the gist of what he said.”

“I think he’s a good kid,” said Klaus. “You should keep him around.”   
  
“I want to,” said Five. “He’s the opposite of me. Kind of like you.”

“Brother, if you ever meet anyone like me, for your sake I hope you run in the opposite direction.” Klaus laughed and slid a chess piece forward.

\----------   


Five had nightmares that night. 

They hadn’t been that bad in a while. He was in bed with Robin, the night of the party repeating over and over again, and his eyes were closed as he sighed--but every time, without fail, he’d hear someone else say his name and open his eyes just to stare into the Handler’s hollow smile.

It didn’t seem so bad on the face of it, but then the door to the room would open and Vanya would rush in to save him. Avi and Klaus would be hot on her tail, and Allison would linger behind them, near the door, disapproval on her face--and when they saw Five, lying where he was tangled in sheets and limbs, they grimaced, then laughed and left. Allison would shut the door, and the Handler would slit Five’s throat, and he would choke on his own blood before the pain faded to pleasure and it started all over again. 

How many times the cycle continued, Five didn’t know, but the last time it happened he opened his eyes to an empty space above him, and sat up, waiting for someone to come in and take him home. Nobody did, and he waited for a long time--probably years--before standing to leave the room. Outside, the corridor was dark; Five almost died several times dodging falling axes and other various traps, and when he got to the end of the corridor he stepped out into nothingness--and as his foot pitched him forward he thought about how many times his family had braved those traps to save him, only to decide he wasn’t worth it and leave. Until, of course, they stopped trying altogether. 

The falling sensation woke him, and he stared at his ceiling, clutching his sheets in a death grip. 

\---------

In the morning he spoke to Vanya, going out of his way to avoid Allison, wherever she was. They stood in the kitchen, Vanya buttering toast, Five sipping his second cup of coffee.

“What should I do?”

“If you press charges, the evidence will get thrown out of court. I don’t think it’s legal to use it if you stole the phone.”

“Maybe it’s best to just leave it,” said Five. “All the pictures got taken down, and it’s not like they’re on the internet or anything.”

“Weren’t you gonna meet with his sister?” Vanya kept checking her watch. Five frowned.

“Yes--what are you late to?”

“A rehearsal,” said Vanya. “I’ve got a ride there and I don’t want to miss it.”

“Oh, okay,” said Five, wondering who was driving her. 

His question was answered ten minutes later when Vanya ran out of the house, violin case and music bag in hand, to laugh brightly and jump into a truck. Five barely got a glimpse of the driver, but she had curly black hair and a huge smile. He hoped Vanya was doing well. She seemed happier as of late.

When Five couldn’t find Klaus, he was confused for a bit before remembering that his brother had a painting class. Klaus had a lot of classes, actually; he wasn’t in the house much. Diego didn’t live there. He had been contemplating the military for a while before Klaus talked him out of it, and was now trying to get back into the police academy, which took a lot of his time. Luther lived in a small apartment on the other side of town, and split his time between about twenty therapists and his job as a gym trainer. Allison flew across the country every few days to visit Claire.

Five realized what he’d said to Klaus earlier was more true than he thought. All of his siblings had singular lives that didn’t involve him, and now he had a life that couldn’t involve them. A shitty life, yeah, but he was entitled to that, wasn’t he? 

He suddenly missed being isolated with his siblings quite a lot, and spent a few minutes staring longingly at Allison’s margarita mix on top of the liquor cabinet before the home phone rang.

“Hello?” Five expected Vanya, calling to say she had forgotten something. Instead he got Avi.

“Hey, it’s me. I’m on my way over.”

“I thought we were having a fight,” said Five, brow furrowed.

“We are. But I’m still gonna help you because I promised.”

“I don’t understand,” said Five, quietly. “Why don’t you ever just leave?”

“Because as much as you frustrate me,” Avi said, tinny over the phone line, “I miss you. And I promised. Besides, I didn’t give you time to explain what happened on Friday.” There was rustling, and loud footsteps. “Go open the door,” said Avi.

Five nearly tripped over himself to get to the entrance. Throwing the door open, he smiled. Avi stood there, in a long coat that was too big for him, all angles and dark colors. He grinned back at Five, and his white gap-teeth shone. 

He held his phone up and ended the call. “Okay. Tell me what happened.”

\---------

They sat on the roof; it was a nice day out. Avi swung his legs over the side of the rooftop vent. 

“I’m still gonna say you shouldn’t have gotten drunk. Like, you forgot the point of being there.”

“So you aren’t upset that I went?”

“I knew you’d _go_.” Avi shrugged. “It was too perfect. Besides, you have this thing where you just do whatever anyone tells you not to do if you think you can, no matter how right the other person is. I’m mad you immediately decided to get back with Robin.”

“I’m not back with him!”

“What does he think?”

“I--” Five stopped. “I don’t know what he thinks. I left before he woke up.”

“And you have his phone. He’s got to be livid.”

“He doesn’t know I have it.” They went quiet for a bit, staring off the roof at the streets below.

Avi spoke up. “What was it like?”

“What was what like?”

“Sleeping with Robin. You don’t have to answer, I just--” Hands were flailing again. Five cracked a smile.

“Honestly, I don’t really remember,” he said. “Which sucks, because it was--the first time.”

Avi shuddered. “Robin must be happy about that. Creepy ass.”

“Robin is--” Five trailed off.

“Dude, you think Robin’s a  _ virgin?  _ Hell no! He probably lost it at, like twelve,” Avi laughed. Five shifted where he was standing, awkward.

“Well--I remember bits and pieces,” he said, scratching his neck. “Like--it hurt, but it wasn’t bad. Good--hurting. Uh.”

“You don’t have to tell me,” laughed Avi.  _ He laughs so much,  _ thought Five. He stood, staring at Avi, who jumped off the vent and danced to the edge. His long coat spun. It was mesmerizing. “When are we gonna go meet Cindy?”   
  
“Huh?” Five snapped back to attention. “What?”   
  
“Cindy! When do we meet her!” Avi sang the words off the ledge, wind billowing his hair out. Five blinked and looked down to check his watch.

“Shit--we’re late,” he said, somewhat unenthusiastically. He wanted to stay on the roof for a bit longer.

“Do you ever do your homework?” he asked Avi as they walked downstairs (well, Avi skipped). 

“Do you?” He blasted Five with a grin and hurried in front of him. Five flushed and ran to catch up.

They walked to the park together. Five was irritated at the fact he couldn’t jump, but watching Avi skip and wave at passing dogs made it a small bit better.

Cindy sat on a bench, looking boredly at her phone. Five called her name and jogged up to her, Avi in tow.

“Cindy! I got it.” He held out Robin’s phone.

“How’d you unlock it?” She took it skeptically.

“His password was his birthday,” said Five. “How is he in honors English?”

“Robin gets whatever he wants, usually,” she said, scrolling. “He wants honors classes, he gets them. He wants A’s in those classes, he gets them. Now he just thinks he can have anything.” She bit her lip. Five understood why she had wanted him to find the texts.

Avi tapped Five on the shoulder, and blinked slowly a few times. 

“Is that Morse code?” Five asked, and Avi facepalmed. 

“Not anymore.”

Cindy piped up. “Okay, I see what you mean. But--what did he do?”

“What you see,” said Five, brow furrowed. Was there something else?

“No, I mean other than the texts. He just started talking to you out of nowhere and then you sent pictures when he asked. Is he blackmailing you or something?” She looked tired.

“He wasn’t when that happened,” said Five.

“Then--did you just like him that much? He’s really not that attractive.” Cindy frowned at the phone.

“Beg to differ,” objected Avi. “Ask any girl between the ages of twelve and eighteen.”

“I don’t really know what to do,” said Cindy. “I mean, I believe you now, but nothing’s gonna happen to Robin.” She shrugged matter-of-factly. “I’m sorry.”

Five stared at her in disbelief. “There’s nothing you can do.”

“Well, not really,” said Cindy. “If you do anything, I’ll be on your side, I guess, but it’s not really my business anyway.” She stood, smiling, and handed the phone back to Five. “Keep this for a while. Robin’s got a backup. He’ll probably think he lost it.”

Five nodded, incredulous, and watched with wide eyes as she walked away.

“Well, that was nothing,” said Avi. “But we can clear your name at least.”

“We can’t,” said Five. “It doesn’t matter if he asked. They’re my pictures. It doesn’t help.” He turned, hands in his pockets, to leave, but Avi held him back.

“Yes it does. You’re a boy.”

“Did you just now notice?” Five raised an eyebrow.

“Okay, let’s think like these football players for a second.” Avi hopped onto the bench, balancing on the back. “You, Quincy Hargread, are harassing a straight football player and sending girly nudes. Immediately I begin to assign words like  _ slut,  _ because that’s what I know and because I love targeting people and kicking them when they’re down.” He whirled to face Five. “But what do high school boys love even more than that?”

“Girls?” tried Five.

“No,” grinned Avi. “They love kicking down their sandcastles. They will tear something down as easily as they build it up, and twice as fast. It’s a far more attractive option than shitting on some new kid they barely know.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“Robin’s super privileged. Joined varsity football early, rich, attractive, tall--if we put a target on his back, they’ll trample each other to knock him down.”

“You want to spread the texts,” said Five, smile beginning to spread.

“But we have to be careful. He’s got a million lawyers and he can spin a story in a second. If anyone even gets the notion you may have spread them, it’ll be bad.”

“Right,” said Five. He wasn’t that good with secrecy when he was trying to be. If he went about things normally, he’d remain unnoticed, but when he tried to be stealthy he was caught more often than not. And since he couldn’t murder his way out of this one, the job would simply have to go to someone else. He ran through his options, and turned to Avi.

“We need to make another friend.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> okokokok 
> 
> what did you guys think you maybe uh......wanna tell me...wanna leave a sneaky little comment.......nahh jk. unless...?


	10. a theatre kid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hi I have so many things due in the next three days I am so swamped with work hhhgjjhgddhdhjdsk but you know what I've been doing? watching euphoria for the 84593857349th time. could you guys tell I am a fan of euphoria? yeah I know it was quite obvious
> 
> oh in oTHEr news I changed the rating for this fic and notched it a little higher on the Maturity Level hehehehehe

Avi decided to sleep over that night so they could go through his old yearbooks, and they spent the rest of the day running through traffic and frequenting as many coffee shops as they could. The last one they found, disheveled and panting, was full of kids.

“Shit,” said Five, turning to Avi. “We can’t go here.”

“Yes we can.” Before Five could say another word, Avi was inside, and he cursed and followed.

Inside the shop, people talked and laughed. A lot of them were high schoolers; Five recognized a few from the game. Some were kids he’d seen in the hallways. He immediately was uncomfortable, and a bit irritated, but when he tried to join Avi in line he was waved away. “Go sit somewhere!” Avi called, and turned around. Five blinked, angry, but surveyed the tables just the same. Here was a chance to make a friend.

The first three places he tried to sit he was rebuffed; one table was full of gossiping eighth-grade girls who talked about people he didn’t know (Five left when he heard his name; they obviously were dead-set on not noticing his presence). The next had two kids with sketchbooks who gave him cold looks. Five put on his best glare, and they flinched. The third table went quiet when he approached, and met all of his inquiries with giggles and mockery. He decided they weren’t worth his time.

Five huffed and searched for Avi. Still in line. He had barely wasted any time. Looking around, he noted that there was an empty table in the back and made his way there, sitting with a huff. With a new mission to think about, he felt calm, and went over each possible scenario in his head. First, the best--they find a friend willing to spread the texts. Robin is then cast out by his peers and punished for spreading the pictures. Five frowned; there was something wrong with this--oh, yeah, if the law punished Robin for spreading the nudes, it would punish him for sending them. That wouldn’t be good. So no lawmen involved, then; they’d have to settle for social judgement. 

Five sat, slouched, elbows on the table and hands clasped, until Avi sat next to him with two coffee cups and a chocolate croissant.

“They didn’t have anything I thought you’d like,” he said, pushing a coffee cup over. “You look like you’re about to kill that girl over there. Are you trying to get her attention?”

Five blinked and startled to attention. “What girl?”

“You have the worst case of resting bitch face I have ever seen,” said Avi. “You have been staring at that random girl for who knows how long and you look like you are plotting her murder. See, now she’s coming over--goddamnit--”

And the girl was coming over, looking miffed. It was a becoming look on her; she had the kind of features that were assembled in the most aggressive way possible. Her style did nothing to combat this. She wore her hair in an almost-mullet, and its shaggy black curls seemed to outline each sharp edge. Her clothes seemed that they couldn’t decide whether to be drab black or brightly colored, and she wore cargo pants and about four layered jackets. All in all, she was one of the most intimidating people Five had ever seen; she seemed to rival even his old coworkers (though Five was having a hard time remembering how Hazel and Cha-Cha looked).

She stalked up to the table and glared at Five, daring him to speak first. Five did the same, letting the pit of anger always in his stomach bubble up to leak through his expression. They stayed, one sitting, one standing, locked in a strange battle of wills, until Avi cleared his throat. 

“Is this some kind of trauma-related mating ritual or something?” he said, quite loudly. Five growled and conceded the battle, speaking first. 

“What do you want?” 

The girl smirked; she’d won. “You got a problem with me, bug-eyes?”

Five blinked, caught off-guard.  _ Bug-eyes.  _ He gritted his teeth, enraged. “Now I do, bitch,” he snapped.

“Stand up.” She grinned; Five seethed. He stood, and very nearly choked her to death when he saw that he had to look up to meet her eyes. 

“He didn’t mean to stare at you,” Avi piped up, sensing a tense situation. “He’s just got a really bad thinking face?” Grimace.

“I could kill you,” Five hissed, seeing the challenge in her eyes. She snickered and turned to Avi.

“Feisty one, isn’t he?” 

Five snarled.

“Oop! Don’t get testy, now.” She slid into Five’s old seat, forcing him to sit across from her and Avi. He was sure his face was red with anger; he clutched his coffee cup so tightly it spilled.

“Shit!” He stood, breathing loud and slow, slamming the crumpled cup on the table. His hands shook as he tried to dry his shirt with napkins. Avi was at his side in a second, sensing an impending outburst.

“Calm down, it’s fine,” he said, taking the napkins from Five. “It’s not coming out--we have to go back for a new shirt--” Five threw Avi’s hands off in a sudden, jerky movement, and Avi stepped back fast, hands up. The girl watched all of this from her seat, amused.

“Okay, calm--hey, are there napkins back there? Are there napkins back there?” called Avi to the shop counter. Someone told him to be quiet, and he took Five’s sleeve and dragged him to the counter. They stood there for a while, getting napkins for the back and trying to soak up the coffee on Five’s shirt, and every once in a while Five would say something snappish and clutch his hair, and Avi would have to spend a while calming him down. 

When they finally got back to the table, the girl stood. “So you’re that kid everyone’s talking about. Weird.” She grinned. Five shook with anger.

“Lies,” he ground out, and Avi softly asked him if he had his meds on hand. He ignored the question. “Who even are you?” 

“Clara,” she said, teeth bared and white against dark skin. It was an ill-fitting name. 

“I am going to try something,” Avi whispered into Five’s ear. Five was about to speak and prevent this; Avi beat him to it. 

“Clara, what did you hear exactly? About Five?”

“He’s in my World History class,” she said, eyes piercing straight through them. She turned to Five. “I hear what everyone else hears.”   
  
“Specifics?” pressed Avi.

“In generalities, everyone’s pretty much heard you’re obsessed with Robin and you send nudes to anyone who asks. Plus, you stare at people and you’re a diagnosed sociopath.”

Five furrowed his brow. “None of that is true,” he spat. 

“But if you want specifics, some of the stories I’ve personally been told are that once you called Robin’s phone fourteen times in one sitting, you asked Cindy to the dance just to get his address, and you sleep with old men for money.” She leaned against the wall. “But everyone tells those a bit differently.”

“That’s a lot of gossip,” said Avi, openmouthed. Five looked like he was about to explode.

\--------

“Why is she here?” hissed Five, eyeing Clara in front of them. They were walking back to Five’s; it was dark.

“Because you said we needed to make a friend, and I honestly think she’s our best bet,” whispered Avi.

“Well, does my input matter at all on this?”

“Ideally, yes, but right now I think you’re angry and you need mood stabilizers, so no.”

Clara whipped around, smiling big. “You guys are so interesting,” she said. “I mean, what’s going on with you? Literally nobody knows. You can do whatever you want and no one cares, because they just want to talk about the gossip.” She rubbed her nose and took out her phone. “Be on my story,” she said, snapping a picture and turning back around.

“What was that,” said Five. Avi took a breath.

“Nothing important. We’re just gonna go back to the house and explain this to her, okay? Then everything gets fixed.”

Five growled. “Fine.”

When they got to the house, Clara walked right past. Avi grabbed the back of her jacket to halt her. “Right here,” he said.

“That’s your house?” She stared at it with awe. “You have all that and you still--damn.”

Five scowled, and stormed up to the door, promptly falling over a neat package on the steps. “What the hell!”

Avi picked it up. “It’s got your name on it.”

“That’s Robin’s handwriting,” muttered Five. 

In Five’s room they sat and stared at the box. There was a blue ribbon tied in a bow around it, and it was about two feet long and a foot high. 

“Why would he send you that?” laughed Clara from her perch on the windowsill. 

“None of the stuff you heard is true,” said Five. “We were together for a bit. He’s--abusive.” The word took a lot of effort to get out; he winced as he said it.

“Oh no, I never would have guessed,” deadpanned Clara. “Do you not watch movies? Like, a closeted football player with a rich, political family. Dude, come on.”

“I don’t watch movies,” said Five. He’d actually never seen one. No time.

“That sucks, though,” Clara said. “Like, did he leak the pictures? Because that’s messed up. Isn’t that, like, a crime or something?”

“If I go to the police it becomes he-said he-said. Robin will win whatever court case comes out of it. It’s better to do it this way,” said Five, still staring at the package.

“Do what?”

“Here, said Five, standing and showing her Robin’s phone. “Went to a party he was at and got this. Read the texts.”

“I can guess,” said Clara. “No thanks.” Five shrugged and repocketed it.

“You gonna open this?” called Avi. 

The ribbon took a while to untie; Five ended up tearing it in half with his teeth. Clara claimed the pieces for a necklace. She supplied a pocketknife to cut the tape with, which gave Five a little bit of respect for her, but then promptly sliced off a lock of Avi’s hair, which lost it again.

Five opened the box. Packing peanuts, a note, and jewelry boxes. He frowned. “This can’t be for me.”

“Read the note.”

Five took a breath and unfolded it. “I’m sorry for everything.” He stopped.

“You don’t have to read it if you don’t want to.”

“No, I’m fine.” He cleared his throat. “Sorry for everything, and I know we’re meeting obstacles right now, but I think Friday showed us we’re meant to be together. We fit like puzzle pieces.” 

“Obstacles?” laughed Clara from the window. “He sent your pictures around and called you a slut. That’s not really an obstacle.”   
  
Five held out a hand. “It’s not even done--’I love you more than anything in the whole entire world, babe.’ And then--a bunch of sexual stuff.” He grimaced, but kept his eyes down. The last part was a lie.

“What happened on Friday?” Clara toyed with her hair.

“Nothing important,” said Avi, side-eyeing Five. “What’s in the jewelry boxes? He’s rich. It must be good.”

“Let’s see,” said Five, glad to be off the topic of the letter. He crumpled it up and lobbed it in the trash across the room. 

Five tossed a small box to Avi, who opened it and gasped. “Five! Is this a  _ promise ring? _ ” Five scooted over, astonished; Avi was right. In the box sat a simple silver ring. It seemed to be made of dozens of silver vines, each interwoven with miniscule diamonds. It wasn’t a big ring, or tacky; in fact, it was perfect. Five stared at it, eyes wide. 

“No one has  _ ever  _ bought me something like this,” he said in awe. “I wonder if it fits.”

“Doesn’t matter if it fits,” said Avi, snatching the ring box away. “You aren’t gonna wear it.”

“Yeah,” said Five, watching it longingly. “Yeah.”

“What’s his deal?” Clara yawned, elbow-deep in packing peanuts. “You’ve got at least three more things in here. Why would he spend so much money on you?”

“I have no idea,” said Five, picking out the other small boxes and lining them up on the floor. One of them just contained a silver chain; the others were confused, but Five knew it was for the ring. To wear around his neck. It would be beautiful against his skin.

The other two boxes contained a pair of beautiful clip-on stud earrings (uncut opal; his birthstone), and a watch band.

“A band?” Avi picked it up, confused. Five said nothing, but stood and rummaged in his bedside table. He brought out the old watch Robin had given him ages ago.

“It’s his dad’s. I told him the band was a weird color.” Five felt strange inside. Robin had remembered.  _ Shit.  _ He felt like forgiving him. That was bad. Alarm bells in his head--he looked up. Avi stared at him, worried, and Clara suppressed a smile.

“He gave you his dad’s watch.” Avi looked worried. He could see the struggle in Five’s face. “He’s just being manipulative. He doesn’t actually care.”

“I love watches,” said Five softly. 

“We have to pack this stuff up. Come on.” Avi began to close the boxes and line them up. “Gimme the band.” Five gave it forlornly. “Clara, will you help us with something?”

\-----------

Clara had laughed for at least ten minutes when they’d told the whole story. Five was very close to murdering her in cold blood; he almost cried when he remembered that there would be consequences for it and he couldn’t. But she had connections, most notably with all of the theatre kids, and she said it would be easy as hell to turn the student body on Robin. They spent hours editing the pictures out (at Avi’s insistence, Five hadn’t cared) on Diego’s old computer, armed her with printouts and with pounds of tape and staples, and she snickered as she hopped down the fire escape.

Five watched her go. “That was easier than I thought,” he said.

“Don’t get too comfortable. She’s a theatre kid. She’s just here because the drama is interesting.”

“You’re right,” said Five. “Go take a shower.”

Avi furrowed his brow. “Okay, sure? Why?”

“Because I didn’t this morning and I need the bathroom after you,” said Five, inspecting his nails.

Avi shrugged and left. Five counted to thirty and swiveled. Tiptoeing to the door, he waited until he heard water running down the hall, and sprinted to the trash can. The note from Robin lay crumpled. He unfolded it, to read the last few lines again.

_ It’s us against the world, babe. They made me do it. _

_ If you feel it too wear the ring on Monday. Not where people will notice it.  _

_ I can’t wait to see you again. I love the way your eyes cross.  _

_ Love, Robin _

Of course he wouldn’t wear the ring. It was silly. He stood nothing to gain from it. Nothing except for Robin, who was mean and had tried to physically hurt him several times. Nothing but Robin, who loved him even so. Nothing.

He folded the note and slid it under his pillow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi comment please!! pls I enjoy ALL of them so say something I dare you >:)


	11. Suspicion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a bit of a shorter one today bc im working on a lot of things for the next chapter. its looking like this will top out at around 20-23 chapters so stay tuned loves <3 <3
> 
> five's situation is starting to affect his performance in school. and every other aspect of life.

On Monday, at school, Five was quiet. There was a test in his biology class, and a presentation in History, which he wasn’t worried about. They would pass as uneventfully as every other, and he would be ranked top in the class, as always. 

When he opened his locker that morning, it was full of letters in red envelopes. A kid snickered behind him; Five was confused. He took one in his hands, running his fingers over the seam. All of them were marked with stickers; little kissy-face lips. A thumbnail was all it took to open one. Five shook out Polaroids. Two of them. One was a blurry picture of his face, and another was a picture of Diego, leaving the house. His eyes widened. He whirled, staring into the face of a tall boy. One of Robin’s lackeys, he recognized, and let cold disgust curdle his features.

“Did you take these?” he snarled.

The boy grinned. “Naw, man. Who’s that?” A grubby finger stabbed Diego’s face.

“My brother,” said Five, keeping his confusion from coming through onto his face.

“You got a lot of brothers,” said the boy before jogging away to a group of jocks across the hall. Five threw the rest of the letters in the trash without opening them.

When he walked into his biology class, he thanked the gods that it was mostly empty. He took his seat, near a long window and close to the back.

“What’s up, Quincy?” Mr. Nash smiled from his desk. “You wanna come sit up here today?” He gestured to the front of the class.

“Why do you ask?” Five fidgeted with his hands. Please, no.

“No reason. I just thought you could maybe focus better up here.” Mr. Nash smiled kindly. “If you don’t want to, that’s okay.”

“It’s a test,” said Five.

“Well, you do well on tests, so you should be fine.” 

“I’ll stay here,” said Five, and regretted it when two jocks walked in and took the seats on either side of him. “Don’t we have seating charts?”

“No,” said Mr. Nash, scrawling the time on the board. “People usually just sit in the same place, you know.” 

So Five could move, but he wouldn’t. It would be weak. So no. He sat, staring ahead, back rigid, as the jocks snickered and poked him with pencils and began to tap their feet loudly. Mr. Nash passed out the tests; Five was thankful. Something else to focus on, at least. 

But the jocks didn’t stop. They barely cared about their grades, and tormenting Five was much more fun than biology. They knew he was testy with loud noise, so one of them dropped a thick textbook off his desk every few minutes. The other tapped his foot and hit his pencil against the desk. The sounds were like torture to Five; he gave up on the test after five minutes and just sat, hands pressed to his ears, head on the desk, until a hand tapped his shoulder and he looked up into Mr. Nash’s face.

“You okay?”

“Tell them to stop making noise,” Five ground out through gritted teeth.

“No one is making noise,” said Mr. Nash quietly. “Do you need to go take your pills?” He was speaking softly, but people still heard it, and now there was whispering and giggling. Five’s eyes burned. 

“No. I’m fine. Can I--can I move seats?” The tapping and falling books had set off his sensitivity; now every sound rang through his head.

“There aren’t any open seats.”

“That’s fine, then,” said Five. It wasn’t fine. He failed the test.

He walked briskly through the halls, eager to get to lunch. Mr. Nash had kept him late, to talk about  _ mental health resources,  _ and so the hallways were empty; everyone was already in the cafeteria or outside. He let his gaze wander as he walked, stopping when he saw a bulletin board. A poster hung in the middle of it, brightly colored in blue and gold.

_ Hamilton High School--Homecoming Game! _

That’s right. Some of the eighth graders went to the high school homecoming. It was a rite of passage, of sorts. So the posters would be up. Robin would be playing. Five frowned. He ripped the poster down and ducked into a bathroom to throw it in the trash.

“I knew you’d come.”

Five startled so much he launched himself into a wall, and spun, fists defensive. Of course.

Robin drew close to him, so close Five felt his breath, had to crane his head to stare at Robin’s face. He lifted a hand, ghosting fingers across Five’s shirt, skating up to his collarbone--Five stood, holding his breath, hyperaware of every small movement, not knowing what to do--

Until Robin popped a button and drew the ring, on its chain, out of Five’s shirt. His breath stopped.

“You wore it,” said Robin, face dark with lust. Five stood, teeth clenched. Robin reached around the back of his neck and unhooked the chain. “Put it on your finger.”

Five remained still. He’d put it on in the middle of the night in a moment of weakness; it had stayed, forgotten. Now he recognized what Robin meant to do. If Five wore the ring on his finger, even for a moment, it would be a mark of loyalty. Robin would know where he stood, and it would be giving him permission to do whatever he wanted.

Permission he’d been getting his whole life.

Five stepped back, face hard. “I brought it here to give it back to you.” He took another step away, distancing himself from Robin’s outstretched hand, which clenched when it saw.

“What, are your friends telling you that? What, that I’m not good for you or some shit?”

“I broke up with you. It’s over.” Five crossed his arms, steeling himself. “Leave.”

“Fucking--” Robin took a breath. “I did so much shit for you. So much shit and you don’t even fucking care.”

“It’s not my fault you’re attracted to me,” said Five. “If that’s a problem, I’m sorry! But you have to stop. I haven’t done anything to you.”

“You’re not leaving,” said Robin. “You can’t. You’re acting like a bitch, come on. I bought this for you, and it was so expensive--”

“Return it.”

“Non-refundable.”

“Then just--I don’t know, fucking pawn it or something!” In his anger, Five slammed his backpack on the counter. Something rattled inside of it. Vanya’s phone rang, in a pocket, and Five tore it out of the bag, stepping outside the bathroom and shooting a dark look of warning at Robin.

“Hello?”

“I’m on break at rehearsal,” said Vanya down the line. “I noticed it was lunchtime, so I’m checking in. Is everything alright?”

_ I’m being harassed,  _ Five wanted to say, but instead took a breath and smiled. “Everything’s fine. I’m doing okay.”

“Are you sure?”   
  
“Bit of a rocky start, but overall I’m doing well. How’s--” Five stopped, searching his brain for a new subject. “Allison made a deal with me, that if I could get through this year I would be able to get myself accelerated as many grades as possible.”

“Yeah, I remember that, I guess…”

“I don’t know about that. I’m--” He sighed. “I honestly think I’d just be isolating myself more. All of you have lives; maybe I should start living my own. And my own--my life right now is young, and I never got that, so maybe this is a second chance.”

“So you’re saying--”

  
“I’m gonna go through school. Normally.”  _ And hopefully learn some social skills,  _ thought Five. Something clattered in the bathroom, and he remembered he’d left Robin alone with his backpack. “I have to go--sorry--” And ended the call. 

Inside the bathroom his bag lay open on the floor. Five heard a toilet flush from a stall with the door ajar, and pushed it open, drawing in a sharp breath.

“You’re flushing my medication.”

“I didn’t know you took all this shit,” said Robin, grimace on his face.

“What the  _ fuck is wrong with you?! _ ” Five yelled and stormed over, wrenching two bottles from Robin’s hands. He gave them over far too easily, and Five noted with dread that they were empty--they’d already been flushed. “Where’s the third one--”

Robin had it in his hands; he’d picked it up off the floor. Five ran to grab it, but he was frantic, disorganized, and Robin threw him off. Five slammed into the side of a sink, watching pills flush down the toilet.

“Why are you doing this--”

“Because I don’t want a fucking schizo girlfriend!”

“I’m not your girlfriend!” Five sobbed. “If you want one just  _ get  _ one, you could have anybody! But don’t  _ do  _ this to me!” He rubbed his side. He’d have a bruise. 

“You’re such a hypocrite, like come on! I’m not any worse than you,” pouted Robin, chucking the empty medication bottles back at Five. 

_ I’m not any worse than you. _

It was true.

Five dropped the bottles into his backpack and left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> COMMENT RIGHT NOW (I love you <3)


	12. Robin's Mind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to give you all a treat.
> 
> I mean, we don't really know who Robin Briggs is.
> 
> anyway this chapter does feature religious trauma kind of just to give her a bit of a main character moment
> 
> religion is not bad!!!!!! but I personally have seen it used in many many ways to justify just the worst awful shit ever. :)))))))))))))))
> 
> edit: I posted this at three am and then immediately passed out for 6 hours I wonder if anyone can tell

Robin Briggs went to church every Sunday. 

And Wednesday nights, and Saturday evenings, and a month every summer for camp as long as he could remember. He didn’t really understand most of it, but he knew there were certain binaries little boys and girls had to fall into. Especially in modern life, when he was told boys were being pressured to act like girls and girls were being pressured to act like whores. That would be the downfall of society, they said, so it was up to perfect little boys like Robin and sweet little girls like his sister to uphold the moral standard.

Robin liked to do what the church said he should, and he liked to do what his father said he should. In most aspects, this made him feel good about himself. He was tall, the most masculine boy in his grade--give or take--and charismatic. Everyone loved Robin. 

He had an older brother who was perfect, just like him. Kenneth Briggs joined the football team early too. He was quarterback when he got to high school, and he and his girlfriend--Cathy, the leader of the high school Christian group and the cheerleaders--won homecoming royalty every year. Kenneth and Cathy went to parties and to church together, and ended up engaged at Southern Methodist University. The Briggs family was quite proud of them.

Kenneth often gave his little brother advice. Most of it was stuff Robin’s pastor would have blanched at, because most of it was X-rated. He told Robin everything about what girls liked, what girls did, and what happened at high school parties, and Robin would have been confused because it wasn’t very godly at all--except for the fact that Kenneth was still the family’s golden boy, so it had to be all right. Kenneth often said he was only exercising his rights as a man. This is what men in the Bible did, he said, and if you didn’t do it, you weren’t a man, and you might as well not even be a Christian.

This scared Robin very much, because by this time he was getting worried about living up to his brother. The football part was fine--the church, the mission trip, the parties and the drinking--but it was Cathy he was afraid of.

Cathy was by all accounts a beautiful girl. She was her family’s golden child, just like Kenneth. It was simply logical that they would marry. Robin was excited for their wedding. 

But when all his friends laughed and joked about how hot Cathy was, or how good she would be in bed, Robin always left the room. He didn’t like thinking about her--he didn’t find her attractive at all. He didn’t find any girl attractive. When he realized that other boys were actually physically excited by them--that they didn’t just pick the most objectively attractive girls in their grade to like--he got scared.

When he finally felt something, he found himself staring at the wrong people. Boys. They were in his dreams and everywhere he looked; he couldn’t forget about it. He didn’t want any kind of girlfriend. He wanted desperately to find a Cathy, but he couldn’t. He began to sweat in church.

He noticed things there that seemed to call him out. His pastor began to target his youth group with lectures on how to find a godly partner--slowly, gradually, he began to realize that it was absolutely imperative for him to get over his problem if he were ever to live up to his brother.

Years later he hadn’t gotten over it. He didn’t take any girls to dances; he wouldn’t put up a front because it was easier just to ignore the whole thing. His family was getting suspicious. Robin grew more anxious by the day. But he ignored his crushes, ignored any feelings, really, squashing the dread roiling in his head for when he wouldn’t be able to pretend anymore.

The new kid, Five, messed everything up.

Five was the opposite of Robin and Kenneth in almost every way. Small, slender, not loud or brash--still obviously very much a boy. But enough like a girl that Robin could pretend.

It was still secret. It couldn’t be public. And it kept Robin awake and tore him to pieces for weeks and weeks, because he hated Five so much, but he was sure that he wanted him. His body was happy, because Five was not a girl, but if Robin closed his eyes and really thought hard he could pretend in his mind that Five was not a boy, and that everything was right. But the fantasy couldn’t last. Five didn’t do anything Robin’s brother had told him girls were supposed to do--he was arrogant, and he didn’t do what Robin told him to. Which made sense, but still made him so angry.

Everything was wrong, and he’d used his dad’s credit card to buy the jewelry, which was a terrible, impulsive decision.

He stormed out of the bathroom and towards the back of the school. Kenneth was visiting next weekend, and none of his advice had worked. God, he was angry. 

He bumped into someone, that loud kid from his History class, and snarled. “Watch it!” On impulse, he shoved the kid into a wall, and turned to leave before realizing where he’d seen him before. He swiveled.

“You’re that kid who’s always with Five.”

Avi blinked. “Do you know where he is? I can’t find him.” 

Robin seethed, wishing his brother was here. He’d know what to do. “Stay away from him. Or I pop your  _ head  _ like a zit.”

“We’re friends,” Avi said, hands up. Robin shook. Nobody could just be  _ friends  _ with Five. Five was irresistible. And was it his fault? It wasn’t his fault he was a slut, either, so it would be up to Robin to keep him on the right path. And away from other boys.

“I don’t think you heard me right!” He laughed, showing the whites of his eyes. “I said, keep away.” Avi was a fast runner, and Robin watched him go, huffing. 

He turned, chin up, and strutted down the hallway. Lunch was over and people were starting to fill the halls. Now, Robin had exceptionally good hearing. So when he heard, through the layers of talking kids, someone say his name, it was easy to pin the source.

“You talking to me?” He was bored, and probably looked intimidating, because the girl shrunk under his gaze and stammered. That was annoying. “Hello! Spit it out! Whaddya want!”

And the girl’s friend elbowed her and whispered something, and Robin saw red. He pushed her. She shrieked and lurched back into her friend, who gasped. “You can’t push her!”

“What?”

“You can’t touch us,” she said, and her eyes were determined. Robin flinched. Nobody ever said that kind of thing to him. “Leave us alone.”

“You said my name.”

“No reason,” the girl said, eyes fixed above him. Robin felt uncomfortable. 

“Don’t do it again,” he said, eager to get away. The girl and her friend turned their backs on him, and he stumbled away, out through the back of the hall to his car, in the parking lot. He wasn’t allowed to drive on his own. That didn’t stop him. 

The football field was empty. It always was, when school was still in. Robin parked, sloppily, and ran through the parking lot to the big gates. They would need a key to open for games; this football field was big and closed off--he scaled them in seconds. He was practiced at that.

In the middle of the field he sat, calmed by the emptiness and the familiarity. He was skipping class. A test. It didn’t matter. He drew out his phone, calling someone, and put it on speaker, flopping onto his back in the cut grass.

“Hello?” 

“Ken, remember that girl I told you about?”

“Yeah? Listen, I can’t talk much, I got practice in a bit--”

“That’s okay.” Robin cut him off. “Did Cathy ever reject you? Or try to leave you?”

“No. She knows better.”

Robin frowned. “Because she respects you.”

“Yeah. What’s the problem, dude?”

“This--girl--doesn’t respect me. She’s trying to leave me, and I bought all sorts of pretty gifts like you said I should, but she told me to return them.”

“Then find a new girl,” Kenneth said. “Look, I went through a couple stubborn ones before Cathy. You really can’t do anything about them because if you try to like, take what’s yours, they go to the police or the coach and make a big mess. I had friends who, like, got their lives ruined because they tried it with the wrong girl.”

“But I want  _ this  _ one,” Robin said, upset.

“Dude, you try anything with this chick, she’ll ruin your shit. Just trust me! Find a new one.” He sounded exasperated. Robin went quiet; a few seconds passed before he heard a loud sigh down the line.

“You really want her?”

“Yeah.”

“Okay, listen. I don’t have much time.” 

Robin sat up and leaned forward, phone in hand.

“I don’t know a lot about this particular girl, but every girl I’ve ever met has been into big flashy stuff. Do you, like, parade her around and shit? She met Mom and Dad?”

“No,” said Robin, dreading the next words.

“That’s probably why she’s all mad. You have to show girls off.”

“I can’t do that.”

“Why not? You picked a good one, right? Pretty? People like her?”

“Not really,” said Robin. The line was quiet for a few minutes.

“Dude, I told you what kind of girl to pick.”

“You have to give me new advice,” Robin said, loud in the empty field.

“I don’t know how to help you!”

“Just--what you said, it doesn’t work!”

“Then  _ find a new girl!  _ It’s not that hard!”

“I  _ can’t! _ ”

“Why not?!”

“Because he’s not a girl!” Robin slammed his mouth closed. God fucking damn it.

“What?”

“I...didn’t mean to say that.”

Again, silence from Kenneth. Robin was about to end the call when his brother spoke up, finally.

“You like boys, bro?”

Robin was silent. Frozen. No one was supposed to know--but then again, he’d told Five. Who had probably told his annoying little friends. Robin suddenly recognized that no matter what he’d done, he’d sealed his fate from the second he asked Five to that damn football game. People would have found out no matter what. So it wouldn’t have mattered.

He could still fix it, though.

“No! Not--just him. I like girls. And this boy.”

Quiet. Kenneth knew he was lying, he could tell. Terrible twisting adrenaline flooded his abdomen, and Robin wondered why he was sitting in the middle of a stupid field ruining his stupid life with this stupid call. In a moment of self-reflection, he saw himself from outside his body, and felt so disgusted he almost cried.

“Dude, you there?”

“I’m here,” said Robin, eyes shut.

“I don’t really know how to deal with that, dude,” said Kenneth. He sounded weird. “Um--maybe you should talk to Pastor Mike.”

Robin nodded, then remembered Kenneth couldn’t see him. “Um--yeah. I guess.”

“I’m gonna go...I gotta tell Dad about this, Rob.”

“Please don’t--please--Ken!”

But the line was dead.

Robin yelled and threw it as far as he could, seeing red.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> comment I LOVE YOU <333333
> 
> what did y'all think of this chapter? a bit of a switch, I know, and robin is still a GRADE A DOUCHE!!!! but maybe things are not all black and white. 
> 
> 🤪


	13. joseph briggs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hello loves my finals end in two days so i will get back to fast-posting then probably
> 
> slight slight tw for mention of sexual abuse!! literally only a sentence i promise
> 
> also some religious bigotry in here :/ robin's family sucks so bad
> 
> if anyone wonders what diwali is it is the hindu festival of lights!!! it's a very fun time i have been to several of my friends' celebrations (usually around mid-november)

Five sat in a corner, sniveling. 

Alleyways were his favorite. They always had been--the reason was because an upright alleyway had always provided dust-storm protection--but Five could no longer remember that, so instead, it was only faint nostalgia. 

This particular alley was about three miles from the school. Five hadn’t wanted to walk, of course, so he’d just kept jumping as far as he could until he couldn’t anymore--and now he felt lightheaded. A terrible feeling sat in the bottom of his stomach; he was too stressed. This had happened before--when he exerted himself too much--but now it felt much worse, like an itchy gash. He should be worried. He should be far more worried about this, but no, no, he was stuck hiding in a corner from an eighth-grade boy. 

Vanya’s phone rang, from the bottom of the bag he’d managed to keep. It shocked him back into reality.

He didn’t answer the phone--god, his stomach hurt--and he wouldn’t check it, but he would go back to class and forget about Robin. He would walk back to class and forget about Robin. 

Five stood, clearing his throat, and looked around. Brick walls, cardboard boxes, and a busy street at the end of the alley. He stepped out into the sunlight, squinting around him. Where was he? 

He stood in the middle of a bunch of important--looking office buildings. Stepping forward, he read the sign above a particularly high-end one.  _ Briggs & Co.  _ He audibly flinched, then leaned forward. Robin’s uncle was the mayor--he knew that--but who was his father? What did his dad do?   
  
He decided to take a chance and swung open the doors, grinning.

The inside was a pretty standard lobby--a law practice. Chairs and a reception desk, though it was made of marble. Five raised his eyebrows. The room looked expensive. He walked to the desk, where a bored-looking woman sat.

“Excuse me--is Mr. Briggs here?”

She looked at him, brows furrowed. “Excuse me?”

Now Five was irritated. “Mr. Briggs. I have--I’m selling--” But he couldn’t come up with a ruse fast enough, and he was left just standing. “I know his son--I have news?” He winced.

“News?” She lifted her eyebrows. Shit. 

“Uh--” Five’s eyes strayed to the side. Likely that corridor led to his office. “Sorry. Do you have a bathroom?”

“Down the hall, to the right.”

Five smiled, nodded, and started down the corridor.

“No,  _ that  _ way.” The receptionist pointed sharply in the opposite direction. Five flashed a shark smile, satisfied when she flinched, and threw a salute as he loped down the other hall. The second she turned her back, he blinked down the right corridor. 

It took a lot out of him. The last energy he had, and he slightly regretted it as he fell into a wall and tried to regain his balance. Shit. He slid down the wall and dropped his head to his knees, breathing hard. His midsection was tearing itself apart. God, was this how Ben felt? No wonder he couldn’t survive his power.

Maybe he stayed there thirty minutes. Who knew. But eventually he convinced himself it didn’t hurt as badly as he thought and stood, swaying, to push open the door marked  _ Joseph Briggs, JD.  _

The room was very elegant. Five noted the dark wood and leather chairs for later. He’d like his room to look like that. But it was of no consequence now--he turned to meet the gaze of a very confused middle-aged man. And yes, Five saw that he had been right, because Robin’s strange brown eyes stared at him from the man’s face. 

“Mr. Briggs?”

Mr. Briggs frowned and held up a finger to halt him, turning to speak into the phone at his ear. “Sorry about that, Ken. I’ll call you later and we can talk about this. Go to practice.” He hung up the landline and settled in his chair, threading his hands together and raising his eyebrows. “Can I help you?”

Five took a breath to keep from grinning. “My name is Quincy Hargread. I know your son,” he said. “Robin?”

“What about my Robin?” Mr. Briggs leaned forward, caution written on his face. Five blinked. He looked wary already; had Robin done something?

“Um--I got these in the mail yesterday,” said Five, and dug in his bag for one of the small boxes. He only had the earrings, but they would do. “It’s addressed to me, and I don’t have a sister.”

Mr Briggs took the box and opened it, then pushed it to the edge of his desk with a grimace. “Don’t lie to me, Mr. Hargread,” he said, look of warning on his face. “I haven’t kicked you out of my office yet, and I won’t if you explain this. My son isn’t--” He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair, squinting. “I’ve never heard of you before.”   


“I’m new,” said Five, attempting to look as small and helpless as he could. Mr. Briggs frowned, confused, and he abandoned the effort. “Your son’s harassing me.”

Mr. Briggs stared at him, stony cold. This wasn’t going to work. Five cleared his throat and cursed himself for not planning ahead. Time to change his approach. 

“Right, let’s cut to the chase,” he said, walking briskly to the desk and swiping the box. “Your kid is obsessed with me. Writes me letters, tries to  _ kiss  _ me, Photoshops weird pictures, and I’m sick of it. Call him off or I’m going to go to the police.” Only a bit of a lie.

Mr. Briggs tapped the desk, obviously uncomfortable. “You haven’t had a parent or an official contact me, and instead decide to come to my office to threaten my family yourself?”

“Look, my dad’s rich,” said Five. “And I have proof he’s tried to assault me. Even if I don’t win the case I can make it cost a lot of money. And ruin your reputation. And his.” Five stood tall, as Robin’s father ground his teeth. He had to know he was walking on a thin tightrope here--ignore Five’s demands, and the family name is dragged through the mud, or acquiesce, and have to deal with the fact his perfect son was not so perfect after all. Five grinned. He was good at this. 

“Listen, Hargread,” said Robin’s father, but Five had stopped listening. His midsection was on fire, and he could no longer ignore it. Currently, all his energy was focused on not falling over. 

Mr. Briggs went on. “I don’t know what kind of sick game you’re playing, taking advantage of my son’s vulnerability to--drag him into your world.” 

“My  _ world? _ ” Five winced, clutching his stomach.

“Your queer--I don’t know how you people do it! Dragging good Christians into your  _ mess,”  _ snapped Robin’s father, and Five would have had a snide comeback, but his hands were flickering blue and he needed to get out of this office  _ now. _

“He’s harassing  _ me _ ,” Five ground out. “He liked me  _ first. _ ” And now he paled and stopped, because Mr. Briggs’ head shot up.

“You admit it, you’re influencing my boy!” Mr. Briggs’ face was red. “Do you know what you may cost him?!”

“What, a position on the town  _ Christian Council? _ ” Five drew air through his nose, deep breaths, forget the pain. “If it wasn’t me it would’ve been somebody else! Do you get that!”

Mr. Briggs stood sharp and fast, face red as a lobster, slamming his palms on the desk. “You leave my son alone. Leave him alone--by God, I cast the devil out of this place--”

And in what was probably the worst timing ever, Five crumpled to the floor, unconscious. 

\-------------

“Is this because I didn’t meet you for lunch yesterday?”

Avi sat on the edge of Five’s hospital bed, frowning. He was absentmindedly twirling a lock of Five’s hair, which Five would have minded had he not been so drugged up. 

“Can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” slurred Five, head lolling. The monitor next to him beeped. “Where’d-you-go?”

“Where did  _ you  _ go?” Avi shot back. “Your sister’s trying to find out where they got you from. Lucky you had her phone.”

Five laughed, eyes half-closed. “I like you.”

“Okay,” said Avi. “You’re way too hopped to talk to me right now. That’s okay. But I’m gonna miss Diwali preparations, and my mom’s gonna kill me, so I have to go.”

“You’re leaving?” Five’s eyes were completely shut now; he murmured like a sleep-talker. 

“I’m coming back. When you’re sober and all, okay? Besides, visiting hours are gonna be over soon.” Avi stood and bowed, though Five didn’t see. “I will speak with you tomorrow, dearest one!” And he laughed as he left the room.

Vanya came as he left, Klaus hot on her trail. She turned to him, speaking quietly. “Thanks for meeting me here.”

“No problem, darr-link,” Klaus trilled, far too loud. Five groaned from the bed, and Klaus lifted a hand to his mouth. “Whoops.”

“His doctor wanted to talk to me in a minute,” Vanya said, wringing her hands. “Can you stay with him?”

“Of course.” Klaus flounced to a chair next to the bed and sat, drawing a large coloring book out of a satchel to his side. “Brought one for Fivey, when he wakes up. Look, isn’t it just his style?” He held up the book, grinning widely, and Vanya gave a small laugh in spite of herself, because it was just fancily-drawn insults.  _ Fuck you!  _ said a cat with rainbows on its sides. Just Five’s style.

It was short-lived. Five’s doctor beckoned Vanya out of the room. The door closed, and the doctor--a tall woman with big teeth and dark curls--looked at her clipboard with pity before addressing Vanya.

“Ms. Hargreeves?”

“Hargread,” said Vanya, remembering. 

“Right,” said the doctor slowly. “Your brother will be fine. He’s dealing with severe bruising and a slightly cracked rib, both of which will heal and be fine with proper treatment. No severe physical exertion, no largely stressful events. For at least six weeks.”   
  
“Alright,” said Vanya, dreading Five’s reaction. “Cracked ribs? That’s--I don’t even know how he would--”

“We also did a rape kit.”

Vanya stared, eyes wide.

“Don’t worry; it came up clean. But we have some questions about his home environment, if you’d follow me?”

She beckoned Vanya into a small room off to the side. Vanya followed.

\-----------

Five metabolized quickly. He always had, and he wasn’t on a morphine drip, so he woke fairly soon with a slightly clearer head.

“Klaus?” He grimaced; his midsection still ached. “What’s going on?”

“Oh, you’re awake, darling!” Klaus clapped, grinning. “Doctor said to call her when you got up. Ping.” He pressed a button on the arm of the bed, and sure enough, the doctor came in.

“Good afternoon,” she said, smiling kindly at Five. “My name is Dr. Keira, and I’ve been taking care of you. How you feeling? Everything okay?”

The smile made Five uncomfortable, but he forced one back. “Doing great. Thanks.”

“Right, well, I’ve just got some questions for you, okay?” Turning to Klaus. “If you could give us a moment.”

Klaus threw his hands up and danced out of the room, letting the door thud shut behind him. Dr. Keira took his seat and cleared her throat.

“Well, you’ve got a lot of bruising and a cracked rib. And sometimes when I see injuries like that, it means somebody got hit,” said the doctor in a calm voice. “How did you get that injury?”

Five frowned. “Nobody hit me.”

“How did it happen, then?” She waited patiently.

He blinked. How did it happen? Oh, yeah, Robin pushed him into the sink. And he’d overused his jumping. She couldn’t know about that. So he was quiet, and stared up at the doctor, head down. 

“Quincy? You know that this is a safe environment. If you don’t want to go back with your sister, you don’t have to.”

Oh, shit. His head snapped up. “Vanya is  _ not  _ abusing me.” And something in his eyes must have been sincere, because she nodded and marked something on her clipboard. 

“Are you in a relationship with someone? How are things going with that?”

“Fine,” Five said, clipped and guarded. Dr. Keira didn’t like that.

“What happens when you disagree?” 

Five didn’t answer.

“We can help you if you talk to us, Quincy.”

“You don’t have any proof,” said Five quietly. “You can’t do anything.”

“We can help you,” said the doctor. “So you don’t have to be afraid of this person anymore. Who is it?”

Silence.

“Honey, who is it?”

“We’re not in a relationship,” said Five. “He didn’t like it that I ended it.”

The doctor leaned forward, and Five sighed through his nose. “Robin. Briggs.”

Dr. Keira nodded, pity on her face, and Five wished he hadn’t told her.

“I have to report this to the authorities, you know that,” she said. “But I do need confirmation. Robin Briggs gave you those injuries?”

“Yes,” said Five quietly, dread welling up. Dr Keira told him he did a good job, handed him a cup of water, and left the room. Five sat, alone, in the hospital bed, feeling awful.

Something was started here, and it was going to be hard to finish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> all five knows is be narcissistic overwork himself and lie
> 
> COMMENT YOU MAKE MY WEEK <3 <3 <3


	14. the hospital part II

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i hate american college so much whatthe hellllllllllll why do i live here i want to live on the moon ffs
> 
> my internet search history is so jacked because of this chapter lmao
> 
> slight tw for mentions of suicide in this one

Five woke again in the hospital bed to almost complete chaos. Dr. Keira stood around his bed with another doctor and about four nurses; they were all sticking things in his arm. One was taking his pulse. He yelled and jerked up, which ripped at least one needle out, and the doctors started up in incomprehensible reassurances and soft questions. Five searched behind them; Vanya sniveled in a corner. His brows furrowed, and he turned to the nearest nurse.

“What’s going on? I feel fine.” He tried to brush his hair out of his face, looked down when he couldn’t do it, and saw that his wrists were fastened to the sides of the bed. “What the hell?” He began to jerk again, panicking.

“Sedation,” muttered a nurse, and Five whipped his head around, wide-eyed, before someone pressed a button and fastened a bag to a drip and his eyes rolled back and he was out again.

Much, much later, he opened his eyes. Vanya sobbed in a chair next to him, lifting her head when she saw Five was awake. She made a noise and wrapped her arms around him.

“Vanya, what just happened?”

Vanya lifted her head, sniffling. “I don’t understand why you didn’t  _ tell  _ me.”

“Tell you what?”

“I’m so sorry if it felt like I wasn’t there for you--I thought everything was okay--please, I know it doesn’t look like it but I can help you! I can try, I’m so sorry…”

“What? No, Vanya, this isn’t your fault--”

She sat up, furiously scrubbing her eyes. “This doesn’t help. I’m--I’m going to be supportive, and I’m gonna get you help, okay? Please don’t--” She broke off, squeezing Five’s hand and shutting her eyes. “Please don’t leave me again.”

“I’m not gonna leave you,” said Five. “I’m--a little confused. Vanya, what’s going on?” He looked around. “Where’s the bag I came with?”

His sister stared at him, then burst into tears. Five blinked. Then it hit him. The injuries. The bag. The  _ empty prescription bottles.  _ Oh no.

He would have reached over to tilt Vanya’s face up or something, but his hands were still bound to the bed. “Vanya, I didn’t try to kill myself!”

She looked up, sniffing. “Huh?” 

“I did not attempt suicide,” he hissed. “Robin  _ flushed  _ all of my meds.”

“Robin flushed your meds?” She stared, confused. 

“He thinks they’re weird, or something, and unacceptable, so he just stole them and flushed it all while I wasn’t looking. You can tell the doctors to stop doing all the tests.”

Vanya looked sad. “I don’t believe you,” she said softly.

“What do you mean, you don’t believe me?” Five was incredulous. This always happened.

“No matter what happened, the doctors said you’re at high risk,” she said, voice breaking. “Even if I wanted you to come home--even if I did believe you--they aren’t going to let you. We just want you to be safe.” She gave a small laugh, eyes wet. “And I know you, Fivey. This sounds like something you’d say to Dad.”

Five was certain he had the stupidest look on his face. “You don’t believe me.”

“It’s just so you stay here with us,” she said. “Because we want you to stay here. Really, really, bad, and no stupid teenage football player is gonna take that away.” She scrunched her nose, then looked down at her feet. “I talked to everyone else. I hope that’s okay?”

“Sure,” said Five tiredly. This might as well happen.

“Luther wants to file a lawsuit. For once in his life, Diego agrees.” 

“They want to sue Robin’s family.”

“Yes."

“People will know we’re the Hargreeves. It will be awful.” He had given up, staring at the ceiling.

Vanya nodded. “But if it’s better for you that Robin faces justice, if it’s going to help you, that will be fine.”

“He hasn’t even  _ done  _ anything!” Five was irritated now, and yelling hurt his ribs.

Vanya took a breath. “Okay. Well, you might not see it, but everyone around you can tell how much he’s hurting you, and that’s not okay. We care about you too much for that. Please let us do this,” she said, and Five’s cheeks blew up, ready to deny her, but his sister--his favorite person--was rubbing her thumb in circles on the back of his hand, and he fell onto the blankets and cried instead. 

Ten minutes later he managed to stop, embarrassed, and turned his head away from Vanya on the pillow. She reached up to run her fingers through his hair, then stood. “Um--I have to go fill out some forms at the front. For your transfer.”

“Transfer?”

“The staff wants to move you somewhere they can help you more,” said Vanya. “It’s not permanent at all. Just until we know we can help you at home.”

Five glared at her. “You’re leaving. Don’t I need a ward or something?” It was meant to be sarcastic, but Vanya nodded, thinking him serious.

“Klaus is outside. Worried out of his mind, but I wanted to talk to you first,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I’ll call him in.” She bent down and kissed him on the forehead. “I love you so much. We love you so much.” 

It took her almost ten minutes to leave the room. Klaus walked in after her, noticeably without his usual swagger, and smiled at Five as he closed the door. They had been quiet for a few seconds when Klaus cleared his throat.

“So it got out of hand.”

“He flushed my meds, I didn’t take them all,” said Five, staring at the ceiling.

Klaus sat on the chair next to the bed. “Okay.”

“You don’t believe me either.”

“I’m not gonna say I believe you or I don’t. I don’t know what happened. I just know what’s going on now, and probably better than Vanya does.”

“So you know I don’t want to kill myself.”

“I like that you can say that to me,” said Klaus. “And I’m proud of you for staying here this long, because I know you could have left if you wanted to.”

“I wasn’t going to worry Vanya.”

Klaus smiled and leaned back in the chair. A few minutes passed. 

“Um--I’ve only died on purpose once,” he said quietly. “The other times were accidents.”

Five turned to look at him. Klaus didn’t meet his eyes, but kept talking.

“Before Ben died,” he said. “After, I just didn’t wanna leave him. I--kept him here--so I didn’t know what would happen if I left.”

Five tilted his head, concerned look on his face.  _ How?  _ said his eyes.

Klaus laughed quietly. “Launched myself off a building. A couple months after you left, actually. It was a bad idea.”

“And you survived?”

“Forgot to tell you,” said Klaus. “God doesn’t like me.”

“What, are you telling me you can’t die?” Five really should have been more considerate, but this was  _ interesting.  _

“Nope.” He popped the  _ p.  _ “First time I kinda just woke up with a sore neck and a couple gashes. The next few were overdoses, and again, I’d just wake up. Only met God once.”

“You met  _ God?” _

“Or something,” he said, and smiled. “I don’t think she’d like you all that much.”

Five gave a dry laugh, then stared at his sheets. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

“Yeah. I’m doing better now.” Klaus cleared his throat. “It gets better. It always does.”

“Okay,” said Five, fidgeting. “Untie me. I need to use the bathroom.”

Klaus obliged. The wristbands were only Velcro. Five smiled and left the bed, grimacing when his feet hit the cold tile. He hated being barefoot, for some reason.

The bathroom was small and clinical, as he expected. Five looked in the mirror; god, he looked awful. He reached up to tug at his eye bags. They looked like he’d just broken his nose or something, they were so purple, and when flexing his fingers hurt, he looked down and realized his hands were bruised. Not around the knuckle area, but all down the back of his palm, spider-webbing down into his forearms. He felt cold.

_ Just outside the bathroom.  _ He must have slept for hours. He’d be recharged now.

But he clenched his fists and gritted his teeth, and nothing happened.

Not even a hint of blue. Five blinked, sweating, and tried again. Bit of a flicker this time, but really, nothing. Again, nothing. And again, nothing. “Shit! Come on!” Again. And again. One more time--nothing--and Five lost his balance and fell against the sink with a crash.

“Five? You okay in there?” He heard Klaus calling from outside and panicked, scrambling to get up. His bruised hands smacked against the floor and he hissed in pain, managing to stand just as Klaus opened the door. 

“I’m fine. I just fell,” said Five, shoving past him to lope back to the bed. “Where is my backpack? Where are my  _ clothes? _ ”

“They’ll give you new ones, but we can bring you some of yours,” Klaus said quietly.

Five stopped looking behind chairs to stare at him, indignant. “So you’re not even going to grace me with the dignity of a  _ psych eval. _ ”

“It’s not my decision,” said Klaus, and he looked sad. Vanya reentered the room, clothes in hand.

“Five? We’re gonna go home and get some of your stuff, and then we’re gonna go. Okay?”

Five glared at her. “Can I use your phone?”

Vanya sighed. “Yes. Just a few minutes, though, and go get changed.” She smiled and handed him the clothes and the phone, and Five flashed a strained smile and booked it for the bathroom.

In the bathroom, his hands shook. Avi sounded groggy over the phone.

“Hello?”

“I don’t have a lot of time, so please listen,” babbled Five. “Um--my sister thinks I’m suicidal and she’s trying to send me to a psychiatric hospital. I need your help--”

“You’re  _ suicidal? _ ” 

“Can you drive?”

“No! I’m fourteen! Five, are you okay?”

“If you had to drive, could you? I know how much you play that game thing, so don’t lie to me--”   
  
“Why does it matter?”

“You need to come pick me up. I’m not going to a psych hospital, and if I go, they’re going to try to sue Robin and I can’t tell you why we can’t do that, but we  _ absolutely cannot do that! _ ” Five shuffled out of the hospital gown while talking, trying to sloppily change. 

“If you need help maybe your sister knows what’s best--”   
  
“Goddamnit, Avi!” Five gave a strained laugh, then eyed the door and lowered his voice. “I need to get out of here quick, and you are literally my only lifeline right now--”

“Dude, I’m not about to disagree with, like, doctors. Are you sure you don’t need help?” He was quiet over the phone.

“I can deal with myself perfectly fine! I’ve been doing it for years! Why do you think I can’t?!” Five was yelling now.

“I’ve just seen you have breakdowns and I think maybe your sister could be right--"

“You don’t  _ know  _ me! You don’t  _ know  _ me! And you don’t know my sister, and you’re wrong! I’ve been taking care of myself my entire life and you think you know  _ better?! _ You don’t know shit!”   


“Five, my phone’s about to die--”

“--and every time anyone says they know what’s best for me they’re always  _ lying _ !” Now he was screaming. “You can’t do this to me! You can’t! Just come--just come fucking pick me up--” And he slid down the side of the wall, words dissolving into tears, talking to a dead phone line.

\-------------

Quiet car rides were really becoming a sort of strange normality. Five sat in the backseat, staring at his lap. Vanya drove, silently, and Klaus sat next to her. It was a somber ride.

“I’m not going,” said Five, as loudly as he could (which wasn’t very loud). He looked up, staring down Vanya in the rearview mirror.

“We want what’s best for you,” said Vanya, and Five felt the most extreme sense of raging hot anger he had in days. 

_ What, do you think they can control you?  _ scoffed Delores in his head, and Five sat up, steaming. “You’re locking me up like a problem. That’s what you’re doing, because you don’t want to deal with me,” he said, cracking with anger.  _ Keep going,  _ said Delores.  _ She doesn’t get it yet.  _ So Five spit out the most poisonous things he could think of, growing louder and louder until Vanya pulled over into a gas station.

“--and you know what?! You’re JUST LIKE DAD!” Five crossed his arms, triumphant and red-faced when Vanya slumped over the steering wheel. Klaus leaned over to rub her back and mutter something, and Five opened the car door and left.

Fifteen feet away Klaus caught hold of the back of his sweater. “What do you think you’re  _ doing?”  _   
  
When Five turned to meet his eyes he saw his brother sad and confused, and blinked. “I’m going home. And then I’m not leaving.” 

Klaus bit his lip. Five watched in victory; he knew he couldn’t make Five do anything he didn’t want to do. So he sighed and squatted to meet his brother’s eyes. 

“Vanya’s in there crying.” 

Five stared back at him, unblinking. Klaus scratched the back of his head. “I mean, she doesn’t know what to do, Five; she’s trying her best but she can’t be your mom.”

“I didn’t ask her to be.” Low, under his breath; the wave of anger had settled and now he felt a little bad.

Klaus sighed. “We won’t take you to the place. I mean, as mean as you are I don’t think it’s right to lock you up. Given, you know. Everything.” He waved his hand through the air. “But you really need a therapist. I don’t know what really happened with that boy, and knowing you I probably never will, but you need to talk to  _ somebody. _ ”

Five looked up at him, almost pouting.

“So you won’t go to the hospital, but you have to see a therapist. Is that okay?” 

Five nodded, head down again.  _ Don’t believe him!  _ yelled Dolores, and his eyes darted to the side, calculating escape routes.  _ He is going to lock you up,  _ she warned.  _ Do not trust him.  _

“Five? Five, hey, Five! Calm down,” said Klaus, forcing Five’s head back around to face him. “We’re gonna get your meds filled in a second. Vanya’s--gonna keep them on her.” He watched Five carefully. “Come on. Can you walk with me? Back to the car, come on.” And he stood, guiding his little brother back to the warmth of the Honda’s leather seats. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you guys don't comment ill cry. and im just a little girl! im just a little birthday girl! aw, come on, comment, leave a comment! comment for this little birthday girl!
> 
> (Disclaimer: The author's birthday is actually mid-January.)


	15. rain and bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> HI! im back bitches did you miss me 
> 
> was gone for the holidays but hated it so much. anyway im back and I won't do that to you again I promise
> 
> in this one shit gets a little spicy I cannot wait for the next one though

Five slept on the couch, having passed out ten minutes after getting home. Vanya and Klaus stood a few feet away.

“Thank you,” Vanya whispered, and ended a phone call. She turned back to Klaus, leading him off a bit farther away from Five. “They just called me back. His toxicology reports are normal,” she muttered.

“What’s that mean? Does he…” Klaus twirled his hands in aimless circles. 

“He didn’t take the medication,” Vanya said. “He told me Robin flushed it.”

“That’s what he said,” winced Klaus.

Vanya sighed and dropped her head to her hands. “If Five has another meltdown, he has to be admitted.”

“You’d be locking him up,” said Klaus, warning in his eyes. 

“I know.”

“He wouldn’t stay.”   
  
“Right.” She let out a sad breath, hands falling to her sides. “What an inconvenient power.” Vanya gave a small, miserable laugh. 

“You don’t have to worry about that,” a gritty, tired voice called from the couch. “I can’t jump.”

Vanya hurried over. Five lay there, staring at the ceiling, eyes emptier than ever. 

“You’ll get it back in a couple of hours,” she said, squeezing his hand in an attempt to be reassuring. Five turned slowly to meet her eyes, and she flinched, because somehow he was managing to stare both through her and into her. 

“No. It’s gone.”

Klaus appeared next to them, not comprehending. “What do you mean it’s  _ gone? _ ”

“I mean it’s gone,” spit Five, irritation leaking into his voice. “You heard it the first time, numbskull.”  _ Calm down. If they admit you you can’t leave.  _ “Okay, Delores,” he mumbled on reflex, and Vanya lurched back, eyes wide, brow furrowed. 

“Delores?”

_ You made a mistake.  _ “That’s not what I said.” His eyes darted, and he cleared his throat, sitting up and wincing. “You both don’t need to be here. Just give me a refill of my meds and I’ll be fine to go to school tomorrow.”

“Um--” said Vanya. “We’re trying something new with the meds, okay? There’s a new prescription. It’s a bit more medication than you’ve been taking, but it’s just to help you cope with what happened.”

Five sat back, upset.

“I wouldn’t give you anything if I didn’t think it would be alright,” she said kindly, drawing out four bottles from her bag. “I’m going to get you a weekly pill holder, okay? These only need to be taken once a day, in the morning. So no more just taking them when you feel bad.”

Five stared at her.

“Plus, four bottles is confusing,” she said in an attempt to lighten the mood. Five glared, stood, and stormed up the stairs. He heard a bit of a scuffle behind him and knew Klaus had stopped Vanya from following him.

His room looked depressing, slate-gray that it was. He found himself wishing he’d let Klaus paint it pink. But it was functional--the lock worked, and the bed was soft. He fell onto it, letting out a sharp breath. 

School sucked. He didn’t want to go back. He obviously wasn’t made for it; it hadn’t been three months and he was already the school punching bag.  _ It’s not your fault,  _ Delores reminded him, and he nodded, eyes closed, because as much as he should have been worried about her sudden reappearance she was right, just like always. How could he have known what Robin would do? If anything, it was Avi’s fault, for not noticing and warning him sooner.

Well, that wasn’t really fair, because Avi had warned him, hadn’t he? And so had Allison. Though she was mean about it. He rolled to his side on the bed and pulled Vanya’s phone out of his pocket. She’d cleared it and gotten herself a new one, so it was really his now. Which was nice. Vanya was always doing things for him. He felt a little bad for the way he was treating her--she really didn’t have a choice, did she? He was out of control. He knew that. He always had been. But now people actually cared, and were trying to help him, and he scrunched his face up in an effort not to cry because if people had helped him years and years ago he might not have run away, and then he never would have met Robin. 

Someone called the phone. He answered. 

“I charged my phone, are you okay?”

Five sat up, adrenaline rushing. “How do you do it?”   
  
“Do what? Dude, you gotta tell me what happened, that call was so weird--”

“Every time you say something will happen, I run the math and the math says it won’t, but it just does anyway. And I don’t get it. What kind of probability are you running?”

Avi was silent for a bit. “Probability?”

“Robin can’t hurt me. He shouldn’t have been able to. I could see him coming from a mile away; he couldn’t have hurt me.” Five took a slow breath, attempting to calm himself down. “But somehow he did. And you were right. And you need to tell me how.”

“I just--” Avi went quiet again, at a loss for words. “Dude, you can’t use math with people.”

“Then what am I supposed to use? I can’t do anything else!”

“You just gotta--” He cleared his throat. “I don’t know, it’s just a gut feeling. Based on what you know about the person, what they’ve done, but also just how people are, y’know? Life’s not--a video game or something.”

Five paused, mind blank. 

“You’re buffering, dude.”

“Oh, sorry,” said Five. “Come to my house.”

“I’ve got Diwali, remember?”

“Just come.”

Avi sighed down the line. “I’ll be there in a few hours.” 

Five ended the call and crossed his legs, staring at his desk across the room. It had gotten dark while he was on the phone, but he didn’t reach to turn on any lights. He felt like sludge inside, and the long bruises on his forearms were beginning to hurt again.

Where did those bruises even come from?

He frowned, turning on the phone’s flashlight to inspect them. They were dark, purple and blue; they looked like the sky outside. Which looked nice, but was probably very alarming. Not to mention his ribs. He pulled his shirt up. Lovely motley of green and black. He huffed. Then slid off his bed, moving into a stable stance. The kind of position he used to have to be in to concentrate well enough to jump. Last time he’d stood like that to use his powers he’d been eight. 

He clenched his fists and concentrated. 

Again.

Again.

His ribs screeched in pain and he stopped, grinding his teeth, holding as still as he could while he waited for the pain to ebb. When it did, he limped his sorry way to the bed and sat, howling in pain when he dropped harder than intended. 

This was fucking bad.

\---------

Robin stood in his living room, looking straight ahead at the wall as his parents moaned and yelled in front of him. 

“What the hell did you do to be accused of something like this?”

Robin was silent. He’d had practice tuning his father out.

“Because you must have done something! I--let me tell you, Robin, stuff like this doesn’t come out of nowhere. If the family--” Mr. Briggs lurched to the side, grimacing. “--if the family decides to file a lawsuit and we don’t know what they have on you, you’re not going to college, bud.” His wife patted him on the arm, trying unsuccessfully to calm him down. “You better not tell me you were messing around with this kid.”

Robin shifted his gaze to the ceiling. 

Mr. Briggs’ face blew up red like a party balloon. “And to think we were going to send you and your sister to the _ Purity Ball! _ About as pure as a hooker in church--” 

“Joe!”

“What, Marie? Your son’s whoring himself out for other boys! You think I’m gonna be calm about this?!” 

“Can you guys calm down?” Robin asked in the smallest voice he had. His father turned to him, nostrils flaring. 

“Pack your bags.”

“What?”

“I said  _ pack  _ your  _ bags, _ ” Mr. Briggs seethed. Robin didn’t waste any more time.

\--------

Five laid on his bed. It had been two hours. No sign of Avi. He eyed the fire escape. It was raining outside.

\-------

Robin threw clothes into a suitcase, listening to his parents yell at each other outside his room. Cindy watched, eyes like saucers, from the other side. They shared a room.

“What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.”   
  
“You’re not running away?”

“I don’t know.”

\--------

Five made his way slowly down the fire escape, wincing every time he stepped on his left foot. That side was bad. He’d forgone an umbrella in favor of a long coat from Klaus’ closet (he wouldn’t have been able to hold one and climb down stairs anyway) and had a satchel slung over his shoulder. Phone, notebooks, a taser because he couldn’t defend himself right now. 

The street was full of puddles. Hard to avoid; still, Five grimaced when his shoes got wet. Contrary to popular belief, he hated being dirty. It reminded him of disease, and for some reason he had forgotten, he was deathly afraid of disease. 

Avi’s house was--where? Had he ever been to Avi’s house? No, he remembered, he’d never been because his was bigger and Avi wanted to avoid his parents. He stopped to slump against a wall, defeated. What an idiot he was. 

No, maybe he was just addled from all the medication. He searched for Delores in his head, upset when he couldn’t find her, and kicked over a cardboard box--bad idea; he fell to the ground in pain.

Couple minutes before he could walk again. He’d go to the park, watch the rain on a bench or something. Call Avi, gather his thoughts. Nodding his head in surety, he slowly stood and made his way.

\-------

Robin trudged through the rain, large black umbrella doing nothing to protect his feet. A large bag was slung over his shoulders (he’d switched out the suitcase to something he could more easily carry). He hadn’t wanted to stick around to see where his parents were going to take him. Chances were they hadn’t even noticed his absence yet. And Cindy, sweet girl, would keep her mouth shut, probably blink with those big eyes and they’d forget all about him.

Was he being rash? Most likely. He didn’t even know where he was going to go. But he wouldn’t just stay at his house. 

He missed Five, and felt a little bad. Then he remembered that he was alone in the rain because of him, and was angry again. The stupid boy had ruined his life. Now he might not be able to stay on the football team, and if he wasn’t on the football team, he’d have to actually do schoolwork--and he knew he wasn’t that smart, he couldn’t do well enough to impress people, to live a life like his brother. And if Five sued his family that would be it. Fifteen minutes of fame on the back of a newspaper and the rest of his life gone. 

It hadn’t even really been worth it. Five was a terrible kisser and an even worse boyfriend. Robin didn’t have much to compare him to, and at the time Five had been so pretty and doe-eyed it’d made up for it, but now as he sloshed through puddles he picked apart every aspect of the other boy until Five stood in his head as the ugliest, weirdest person he’d ever met.

He’d walked onto the big park near the school. Sure. He’d gather his thoughts. Making his way to a bench, he muttered  _ excuse me  _ to a huddled figure in a long black coat and sat down next to them. His bag was heavy. He’d rest for a bit.

\-------

Five shifted on his bench to make room for the guy with the big umbrella. Now he was wishing he’d brought one, and he pulled the coat’s hood further over his face. It didn’t help much.

“Here,” offered the stranger, and shifted the umbrella so it covered Five too. He had to scoot over so they were close, and Five looked up to thank him, grateful.

He paled and froze.

Robin did the same.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I left you all alone for so long and I am so sorry
> 
> anyway you know the drill comment please because im in love with all of you


End file.
